Light & Sweet
by LooneyLockhart
Summary: Bucky didn't understand the concept of a coffee house giving away free coffee. From what he remembered, hardly anything in Brooklyn was given away for free when he lived there. And why wasn't the coffee house girl frightened by him when he struck fear in some of the most competent SHIELD agents? Learning to be Bucky Barnes again, he wasn't prepared for the curious coffee girl.
1. Chapter 1

Hello, I have no idea why I'm posting this; I literally started writing this on a really insane idea I got after seeing The Winter Soldier. Let's see if anyone enjoys this!

It's slightly AU, since S.H.I.E.L.D. is still in tact in this fic, only they're working underground. They'll be more about that later though. I really wanted to touch on what happens with Bucky after the movie. So, enjoy!

I sadly do not own any of the characters created by Stan Lee, only my own original characters.

* * *

_If there was one thing that helped Bucky Barnes start his morning, it was coffee, and boy, did he drink a lot of coffee._

* * *

It had been almost six months since it was revealed HYDRA had infiltrated S.H.I.E.L.D. and five months since Bucky found his way back to Steve Rogers.

After he rescued Steve from drowning, he went into hiding, laying low from all the HYDRA agents trying to find him while he tried to figure out who exactly he was.

Steve's words before he fell from the helicarrier had sparked something in Bucky's brain; blurry visions of himself with a short, scrawny blonde boy who had the same face as Steve's. The visions, _memories_, were throughout various parts of time, and in a few the blonde boy grew a good foot taller and became more muscular, and they were dressed in uniform (well, he was, Steve was in his Captain America attire).

It was all so confusing to him, so during his time in hiding he stole some clothes and a hat to keep him better hidden in the daylight, and snuck into the Smithsonian for the Captain America and Howling Commandos exhibit.

It all seemed strange to him, these pictures of men he felt in his gut he knew but couldn't remember, and he found himself circling the area before finally looking at a large holographic image on a glass wall. It was him, it was his face on the glass wall; his hair was cut shorter and his eyes seemed to have a light to them that his eyes currently lacked, but it was definitely him.

He read about himself on the glass wall, seeing that he died in 1943, falling from a train car in the snowy mountains, his body never recovered.

He felt his stomach clench and a knot rose into his throat. The biography also said he and Captain America were childhood best friends, and that Captain America had saved him from HYDRA imprisonment during WWII before he joined the Howling Commandos. Apparently, all the men in the Howling Commandos were great friends with Bucky, Captain America the closest to him.

Bucky hid for a while longer. He wanted to wait and make sure it would be safe to reveal himself to Steve. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't remember everything clearly. Things would come to him in dreams or something small would remind him of his past and he'd have a small flashback, but nothing huge, nothing that helped him. Steve had helped him, his words to Bucky before he fell triggered memories strong enough to make him dive in after Steve to save him; strong enough to want to keep Bucky from returning to HYDRA.

And now he knew who he was; or, he knew who he was supposed to be. He was supposed to be Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, a WWII _hero_. The word hero made the knot return to his throat when he'd think about it.

How could he be a hero? He had murdered who knows how many people, considering HYDRA had always wiped his memories after a mission. How could the name 'hero' go along with his name with all the bad he's done?

He remembered backing away from the glass wall at the Smithsonian, scared of what he read, when he saw a group of kids running up to the picture of his face, pointing and smiling and saying how 'cool' Bucky Barnes was, being a hero and having his best friend be Captain America.

He couldn't go back to HYDRA after that. He refused completely. No way was he going to add another life to his list of murders, he was going to change. He was going to be Bucky Barnes again, even if it killed him.

But he couldn't do it alone. He needed the one other person in the world who could help him.

After a month of waiting, hiding in alleys and catching animals in the woods to cook and eat for him, he finally found Steve walking out of an apartment building a few miles away from S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters.

Steve had been overcome with joy when he saw Bucky approach him, but Bucky refused to hug the blonde or shake hands, he simply explained that he wanted to remember being Bucky, and that he no longer worked with HYDRA.

Steve convinced him to go with him to what remained of S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, where Bucky met a slightly pissed off Nick Fury, which shocked the assassin considering Bucky was sure he had killed him.

Bucky had learned that S.H.I.E.L.D. was going to remain underground, laying low with the remaining loyal agents they had while they went about trying to find and capture the HYDRA agents.

Fury agreed to help Bucky, understanding that HYDRA had erased his memories and basically brainwashed Bucky into working for them. He placed Bucky on a list to see a S.H.I.E.L.D. therapist once a week, while Steve volunteered to house Bucky in his apartment. But despite Fury understanding the predicament Bucky had been under, he still placed the man on S.H.I.E.L.D.'s watch list as a possible threat if he somehow reverted back to The Winter Soldier.

Bucky made clear he wasn't agreeing to be an agent just because he was seeking help from S.H.I.E.L.D.; he wasn't too sure he wanted to be involved with S.H.I.E.L.D. just yet, not until all the HYDRA agents were captured and he completely knew who he was again, then he would reconsider.

And now, five months later Bucky still hadn't managed to regain too many of his memories. Nearly half of the ones involving Steve a few months before Bucky's "death" had returned to him, Bucky's therapist, Dr. Carver, thought it was because they were the most recent before he froze and he spent a considerable long amount of time around Steve for the memories to be triggered.

Bucky was glad he was remembering more of his friendship with Steve, and they were able to have a slightly normal conversation when Steve wasn't away on missions to break up HYDRA, but when Steve was away Bucky was left alone to figure things out. He'd put on a jacket or a long sleeved shirt and a pair of leather gloves, along with a tattered baseball cap, before walking the streets of Washington, hoping something would trigger for him.

Steve suggested taking a train ride up to Brooklyn, considering that was where the two of them were from, despite it changing so drastically over the years. He had gone while Steve was away, and walked around all the places Steve wrote down for him, and a few vague things came to his mind, but nothing huge, nothing deep like he was hoping for.

Bucky didn't have any memory-triggering plans for that Thursday though; he had his therapy sessions on Tuesday, which he didn't enjoy going to but Steve made him (when Steve was actually home to make him), and he'd been given access to use the S.H.I.E.L.D. gym, but Bucky didn't use the gym to clear his head like Steve did, so he would only go every week or so. He'd walked around the city enough to know nothing would trigger a memory, so he was stumped.

He lay in bed, thinking he and Steve could go somewhere, but a sudden hustling outside his door made the brunette think that Steve was getting ready to leave on a sudden mission.

Rubbing his right hand against his face to try and push his sleepy feeling aside, he pushed himself out of bed and walked towards the kitchen, knowing Steve would already have the coffee water boiling by now.

But when Bucky reached the kitchen, the kettle wasn't on the stove. Bucky looked over at Steve, who was shrugging his jacket on as quickly as he could while he held a small duffle bag in his left hand. Confusion was etched onto Bucky's face.

"Steve," Bucky called, snapping his friend from his thoughts and causing Steve to look over at him.

Bucky pointed a metal finger towards the stove, "Coffee?" he asked.

Steve groaned, shaking his head, "We're out. Uh, here," Steve said, shuffling through a small pile of mail on the table near the door before tossing a folded piece of paper at Bucky.

He caught it swiftly, his reflexes as sharp as ever, before unfolding the paper and reading the bold letters.

"Free coffee Thursday?" he questioned.

Steve nodded, "It was in the mail; it's for the coffee house down the street. Today is Thursday so go get your coffee and then pick some up from the store, could ya?" he asked, pulling open the door.

"I got called in, be back in four days, tops. See ya, Buck!" he called, hurrying out the door in an instant.

Bucky nodded absently, used to Steve leaving every few weeks to help break up a group of known HYDRA affiliates. He was staring at the flyer, trying to figure out how a coffee house was getting away with giving out free coffee. How would they make money if they were giving out free coffee all day?

Deciding not to question it, he walked back into his room to throw on a pair of jeans and a plain black t-shirt, a tattered dark jean jacket and his leather gloves. He pulled a hair tie off his dresser, his hair still shoulder length, and pulled it back into a low ponytail, before grabbing his wallet and keys and walking out the door.

It was nearing the end of April and it was comfortable outside, a small breeze making the trees rustle.

Bucky kept his head down as he walked as fast as possible. He didn't try to look scary, but apparently no matter what he did when he was walking by himself or not having a conversation with Steve, his "relaxed" face looked angry, scary even. He'd look at someone on the street and he'd see the fear in their eyes as they took him in, six feet tall with a scowl on his face and broad shoulders. Hell, even agents at the S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters looked at him fearfully when he'd walk down the halls for his therapy sessions. He never liked seeing how fearful all those people looked at him, so he tried to best to keep his head down.

It was nearing 8 AM when Bucky pulled open the door to the coffee shop a block and a half away from his apartment, and he was surprised to see the store completely empty.

Did no one understand the concept of free coffee? Unless the flyer was false advertising and everyone knew it but him. He'd feel like an idiot for not knowing, but demand free coffee anyways since the flyer clearly said it was today.

The only other person that appeared to be in the store was a girl fiddling with a case of muffins behind the counter. She was wearing latex gloves and reorganizing a large tray of muffins so they were all brought to the front of the tray.

Bucky was surprised; he thought this place was just a coffee house. In all the times he walked past it or drove past it, he never saw anyone leaving with more than just coffee. Apparently they were filled to the brim with muffins from the looks of it.

The girl didn't seem to hear Bucky come in or stalk over to the counter, as her back was still turned to him as she rearranged the muffins.

He stood at the counter awkwardly, glancing around, hoping she'd look over her shoulder soon.

He saw an electronic coffee machine to the left of the two cash registers making two fresh pots of coffee, while stacks of Styrofoam cups of all different sizes sat on the counter the coffee maker was on.

A minute passed before Bucky cleared his throat, slightly annoyed that the girl still hadn't noticed him. Although, after being an assassin for years, he had mastered the art of walking as silently as ever.

The girl jumped, nearly flinging the muffin in her hand in the air before placing the tray back into the case and spinning around to look at him.

He clenched his jaw, waiting to see the fear show in her eyes before she forced a smile and took his order, something he saw a lot when he'd go into restaurants or coffee shops.

But nothing flashed in her eyes. Instead, her face flushed scarlet and she placed her right hand on her chest, her mouth hung open slightly, "I-I am so-so sorry, sir! I didn't hear you come in. We should really get a bell for that door or something, wow." she said, tapping at the computer screen of the register with her left hand before straightening up, giving him a small, warm smile.

"What can I get for you today?"

Bucky stared at her a moment. _'She isn't scared of me.'_ He took in her appearance; she was about five foot five, with long brown hair that stuck out of the back of the baseball cap she wore, tied back in a ponytail. She had almond shaped eyes that were a bright green color, and slightly thin, pink lips. He could make out a scar along her jawline on the right side of her face, about two inches long, along with a very small scar on the left side of her small nose.

She looked ordinary to Bucky, but he felt a small wave of happiness to know this ordinary girl didn't appear scared of him.

"Large black coffee." He finally said, glancing back over at the coffee pots.

"Anything else with that?" she asked; she seemed to bounce on her heels as she stood before him, eager to begin moving and getting his coffee ready.

Bucky shook his head, and the girl tapped away at the screen. "Alright, your coffee is free today, as it will be every Thursday for the next two months, so make sure to keep coming in." She explained happily, before ripping the receipt out as it printed and pulling a pen from her apron pocket, circling something at the bottom of his receipt, "If you take this survey at the bottom here you're entered to win a flat screen television; just make sure to put my name as the employee who helped you out today." She explained, scribbling her name down before sliding the receipt across the counter to Bucky.

He watched her pour his drink before looking down at the receipt. She had scribbled her name in a curly type of cursive and Bucky, unfamiliar with her handwriting, couldn't make out all the letters.

'_Her name is Abe?' _he thought, before looking up at her sternly as she placed his coffee in front of him. He scanned her person before his eyes landed on her name tag.

"Alba." He muttered, moving his eyes from the name tag to her face.

She smiled, and from what he could tell it was genuine, nodding her head, "That's right, but my family calls me Ali, and a few of my friends, but I go by Alba at work."

Bucky continued to stare at her for a moment before picking up his coffee and turning to go.

"Have a good day sir!" she called to his retreating form.

* * *

Bucky was in the park when it started raining. He had gone to the store and bought coffee and other essential he knew they were out of, brought them back to the apartment before deciding on walking around the city _again_. It was nearing 4 in the afternoon when a sudden downpour started.

Bucky hurried down the street, not too bothered by the rain until it started coming down harder.

He ducked under an awning a block and a half away from the apartment; the rain was coming down with a mixture of nickel sized hail amongst it. Did he want to try running for the apartment or taking cover it whatever store he was standing in front of?

As the sound of the rain and hail grew louder in his ears and a sudden wave of laziness came over him, he decided to wait it out in the store.

He pulled open the door to find he was in the same coffee house he had visited that morning, and the girl, Alba, was still behind the counter, rearranging the muffins again.

She looked up when he walked in though, and she gave him a large smile, "Hey! Back again for another?" she asked.

'_She remembers me.'_ He thought, before glancing back out at the rain. He turned back to her and nodded as he walked over to the counter.

She had a cup ready and a pot of hot coffee in her hand by the time he made it over, and he watched her pour his drink before placing a plastic lid on the top. She placed it on the counter before him, the smile still on her face, "There you go. Planning to wait out the storm here?" she asked.

Bucky nodded, picking up his cup.

"No problem, stay as long as you like. We have free wifi and the news plays 24/7 on the television." She said, pointing to the flat screen mounted on the wall.

Bucky made his way to a small table near the door, facing the large floor to ceiling windows covering the wall as he watched the rain.

He was constantly aware of Alba behind the counter; he could hear her moving muffins around on the trays and making fresh pots of coffee every twenty minutes.

After his first hour in the store he saw Alba out of the corner of his eye; she had walked up and was looking out the window of the door, her hands in her apron pockets.

He glanced at her, staring at her blank face as she stared at the rain. After a moment he turned back and continued watching as well, waiting for it to lighten up so he could return home.

* * *

It was almost 7 PM and it was still raining hard.

He was getting bored, his coffee had been finished hours ago and he was starting to wonder just how many times the muffins needed to be rearranged by Alba.

He heard the sound of a broom next and glanced over his shoulder to see Alba sweeping up the small store.

She glanced over at him, "I hope you don't mind." She said with a sheepish smile on her face.

He shook his head, and she continued on sweeping.

Bucky suppressed a sigh as he stretched his legs out under the table, his gloved hands in his jeans pockets as he leaned against the back of the chair, boredly waiting for the rain to let up. From the sign on the window, the coffee place closes at 8PM and he had an hour left.

Alba began sweeping the area by the door until she glanced over at Bucky's empty coffee cup.

She glanced at him, before leaning slightly against the broom, "You know," she said, causing Bucky to look over at her.

"It's free refills when you're in the store. Would you like another cup?" she asked, pointing to his drink, "I just brewed a fresh pot."

Bucky nodded, handing his cup over to her while she leaned the broom against the wall, moving back behind the counter.

Bucky didn't have a problem drinking coffee so late; in all honesty he hardly slept more than four or five hours a night anyway, so to him drinking a cup of coffee at 7 o'clock at night was no big deal to him.

He stood up, following her to the counter and watched as she placed his cup down and poured the pot of coffee.

She glanced at him, "Oh, I was going to just bring it to you, you didn't have to get up."

Bucky paused, unsure if he should tell her why he was so keen on watching her make his drink.

"I wanted to make sure you didn't put anything in it that wasn't coffee." He muttered, hoping he didn't come off as crazy. He was working on trying to be 'normal' again, but it was hard to let some of the paranoia go. He knew a great deal about poisons and with HYDRA affiliates still out there, he wasn't risking getting himself poisoned, or worse, drugged and brought back to HYDRA to be Winter Soldier again.

Alba nodded, "Yeah, I understand." She said, grabbing a new plastic lid and placing it over his cup, "I mean, I'd never do anything like that, but I mean, I'd wanna watch the person make my drink to know they made it right, you know? If they added enough cream or flavoring or something," she went on, placing the coffee on the counter.

She quickly noticed the blank look on his face and bit her lip, glancing to her right, "Sorry, I was babbling, wasn't I? I do that sometimes, sorry." She explained before looking back over at him.

Bucky shrugged in response, before picking up his coffee and returning to his seat.

* * *

Bucky stood ready to leave by 7:58. Alba had moped the front of the store, Bucky silently and without having to be asked, stood from his seat and leaned against the door on the welcome mat as she moped, before she moved on to the back of the store.

She had thrown away all the unsold muffins, even offered Bucky some to take home free of charge. He declined, and watched as she curiously packed at least two dozen muffins for herself in a large bag before disposing of them all. After the muffins were gone the coffee was next to go, and then she began putting away all the left over cups that were set out for Free Coffee Thursday.

Bucky looked at the clock behind the counter and saw it read 7:59PM. The rain outside had not lightened up, in fact he believed the hail had gotten worse, but he knew Alba was about to ask him to leave.

"Do you want to call a taxi?" Alba called, reappearing from the back of the store with a phone in her hand.

Bucky shook his head, pushing open the door. There was a strong gust of wind, which blew the door back, causing Alba to yelp in surprise.

"Be safe!" she called to him as Bucky moved out the door. He went to grab the door to push it closed but Alba had ran around the counter and grabbed the handle as Bucky went to push the door closed.

"I got it. You get home!" she called, pulling the door closed as hard as she could.

Bucky didn't listen though, and used his left arm to push the door back in one swift motion, catching Alba off guard as she stumbled backwards before falling forward, her grip still on the handle, colliding with the door.

Bucky's eyes went wide and he went to pull the door back open with his right hand to see if she was okay, but the moment he pulled the door even an inch open the wind took over and slammed it open again, bringing Alba, who still had her hand gripped to the handle, along with it.

She yelped again, closing her eyes tightly to brace herself for another collision, when Bucky reached down and wrapped his left arm around her waist, stopping her.

She felt a bit winded from the sudden pressure against her abdomen, but finally let go of the handle and pushed herself off the ground, running her hand down her face before bursting into a fit of giggles.

Bucky stared at her, confused, "Are you alright?" he asked, his voice a bit louder as he yelled over the wind and rain.

She nodded, covering her mouth with her hands as she laughed, "Thank you so much. Wow, I can't believe that just happened." She replied, shaking her head in disbelief.

She looked up at him, her smile still on her face, "Thank you, but you really should get home. It's getting worse out here."

"Are you going to be okay?" he found himself asking. He didn't know why he was concerned for her, but he wanted to at least know she would be able to get home in one piece.

She nodded, "I'll call a taxi, I'll be fine. Have a good night, be safe, okay?" she asked.

He nodded, glancing at her one last time before turning away.

She pulled the door closed and switched the light on the 'OPEN' sign off. Bucky glanced over his shoulder as he jogged down the street.


	2. Chapter 2

_Wow, I did not expect that. 354 views, 44 followers, 19 favorites and 7 reviews in one day? That's awesome (To me anyways)! Thanks for all your support everyone. I hope you like this chapter. It isn't as long as the first chapter, but think it's still good, and the next chapter is a hell of a lot longer than both of these so be prepared lol. Well, enjoy!_

* * *

Bucky sat on the chair in Dr. Carver's office. It was Tuesday morning and Steve had gotten up with Bucky, despite not returning home from his mission until the wee hours of the morning, to make sure his friend went in for therapy.

Steve had always told him that he had to see Dr. Carver as well, after he woke up. Steve had only needed to visit Dr. Carver for two months before the doctor thought he was fit enough to return to civilian life and to S.H.I.E.L.D.

Bucky had been seeing Dr. Carver for five months and he was certain he wasn't going to be released from his sessions any time soon.

Dr. Carver was a middle aged man, with a receding hairline, his hair once a light brown was now tinted with greys. He wore a pair of glasses when he had to write or read something, and he seemed thinner than Steve was before he got the serum, if that was even possible. But Bucky had a feeling this skinny little therapist would be able to defend himself if he needed to; after all, he did work for S.H.I.E.L.D.

"How many hours of sleep have you been getting since our last session?" he asked, glasses perched on his nose and his clipboard and pen in hand, ready to take notes.

Bucky shrugged, cupping his hands together on his lap as he let his legs stretch out in front of him. He did not want to be there, but he knew he had to be. If he wanted any chance of being the Bucky he was before, he needed all the help he could get, even if it was in the form of talking about his feelings and his sleeping patterns for an hour once a week.

"James, we are not going to get anywhere-,"

"Four hours a night." Bucky interrupted, not meeting Dr. Carver's eyes. "It ranges from four to five, sometimes three."

Dr. Carver scribbled it down before continuing, "And you're sure you do not want me to prescribe you any sleeping medi-,"

"No drugs." Bucky interrupted once more, shaking his head slightly. "I don't want to be drugged."

Dr. Carver nodded, "Alright, understood. But I'd still like to lay down all the effects lack of sleeping a full eight hours can cause you,"

"I know them." Bucky's voice was sharp, agitated. They went through this talk every week. Bucky knew all the effects of not sleeping enough, and he wasn't interested in hearing them today. He moved to grip the armrests of the chair he was in, his grip tight as he tried to control his anger.

"You're frustrated."

"You're damn right." He spat, not meeting his eyes

"Why?"

Bucky clenched his teeth, taking a long breath through his nostrils. "We go through this every week; I _know_ not sleeping enough causes memory impairment and it impairs my judgment and can lead it different long term illnesses. I know it all, but I _refuse_ to be drugged, so can we drop it?"

Dr. Carver nodded, "Alright. We won't talk about sleep anymore, but we will again next time, I hope you know that."

Bucky nodded, releasing his grip on the armrests.

"Have you remembered anything since our last session?" he asked.

Bucky thought about it, about the past week. Nothing new had come to his mind; nothing triggered anything at all, much to his dismay.

He shook his head.

"Did anything happen this past week? Anything that made you happy or feel '_normal'_?" he put an emphasis on it, since he knew from their first session Bucky had told him he didn't think of himself as 'normal' but he wanted to try to be that again, to be normal Bucky Barnes again.

Bucky thought about it; His week had been boring. He stayed home most of it; eating boxes of ten minute meals and watching some old movies Natasha had brought over and left for him and Steve to watch. He had gone for a run in the morning on Saturday and earlier that week…

"I met someone who didn't seem scared of me." He said finally, glancing up at the doctor.

Dr. Carver smiled, nodding his head, encouraging Bucky to tell him further.

He took in a breath, thinking about it. "I met her on Thursday; she works at this coffee house down the street from the apartment. Normally everyone I've encountered on the street or at a restaurant or coffee place like that have this look in their eyes, like they know I could kill them in a second and they're scared I will. When she looked at me though, she wasn't scared. I mean, I _did_ scare her, because she didn't know I was standing behind her, but I could tell she wasn't scared _of_ me. She smiled at me, and it seemed very genuine, and when I went back into the store later to get out of the rain, she remembered me. It was…nice." He explained, not exactly sure how to describe the feeling it gave him.

Dr. Carver was smiling, nodding his head along. "That is wonderful to hear, James. I know you will meet more people like this girl, more genuinely kind people and perhaps you will befriend them. I believe making bonds with people, building up friendships and gaining someone's trust and giving them your trust in return, is a very large key to helping you become yourself again."

Bucky didn't like the sound of that. The only person he trusted was Steve; how was he supposed to trust anyone else? It was a strange concept to him. He doubted he'd be able to find anyone he'd be able to trust fully, but he gave the doctor a curt nod, hoping they'd move past the subject of trust for now.

* * *

Bucky stalked his way home, hoping Steve would be up and willing to go on a run or out for lunch, considering Bucky was getting tired of macaroni and cheese or soup.

He paused outside the coffee house, glancing inside.

He could see through the slightly tinted window that there was a line of people, and whoever was behind the counter was bustling about in a rush.

He pulled the door open and walked inside, the strong smell of coffee filling his nostrils as he tried to see if it was Alba behind the counter.

He didn't quite know why he wanted to know if she was working, but he liked that she didn't look at him with fear in her eyes. Considering he had just walked the long trek back from the remaining S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters and met eyes with quite a few people, he could use one pair of eyes looking at him without the fear.

But he wasn't met with that.

Behind the counter was a young girl, with short blonde hair, hurryingly putting some muffins in a bag for the customer at the counter. She glanced up; about to meet eyes with the man she was helping when she noticed Bucky standing in the back by the door. Their eyes met and Bucky saw it instantly, the fearful look as her eyebrows rose up, and the color drained slightly from her face.

He grimaced before pushing open the door and hurrying outside, knowing fully well he shouldn't have expected to be so lucky.

* * *

Alba groaned, hurrying down the street as she fiddled with the buckle on her purse. Her one day off that week and she had to run into work because she forgot her cell phone in the office.

She turned the corner and saw the coffee house, the third shop away from the corner, placed between a butcher shop and an old dance studio. She shuffled past the people on the sidewalk just to see someone hurry out of the store, throwing the door open roughly, causing it to swing back until it couldn't open any further.

Alba squinted her eyes, trying to see who had just hurried from the shop. He was tall, broad, with shoulder length brown hair and he was stalking away at an alarming rate.

She shook her head; she had no time to wonder about angry customers, she needed to get her cellphone before she was late for her meeting.

She held the door open for the large group of people leaving, all holding one or two cups of coffee with their own little bag holding a muffin.

Alba smiled at all of them, telling them to have a good day. She didn't know what it was about the store, but any time she was in close proximity she went into what she called 'worker-mode', when she would be overly polite to strangers and always wish them a good morning and to have a good day.

As she walked in she saw Linda, the new girl, leaning against the counter and a look of exhaustion clear on her face.

Alba gave her a pitied look, remembering her first day years ago. The nineteen year old blonde before her had no idea what she was in for. It didn't matter how small of a store it was, if they sold something in demand like coffee, it was always going to be rough.

"Tough morning?" Alba asked, walking around the front counter and unclasping the latch on the little swinging door, walking into the small strip of space behind the counter.

Linda gawked at her, "I've been here since 5. Please tell me you're here to take over!"

Alba gawked at her and motioned to her black pencil skirt and red blouse, her hair in curly waves down her back, "Do I look dressed for work? No. I'm just picking up my phone; I left it here last night."

Linda groaned, falling against the counter, her hat pushing up off her head as she laid her forehead against the cold counter top.

Alba chuckled, rolling her eyes before hurrying to the back of the store. "Anything interesting happen this morning?" she called over her shoulder, wondering if Linda would tell her about the angry customer that stormed off before Alba walked in.

"Just the usual folks here for coffee, iced coffee, cappuccinos or muffins."

Alba walked into the office in the back and saw her iPhone lying on the desk. She snatched it quickly, spinning on her heels before heading to the front again.

"Don't forget the lattes and iced lattes." Alba said knowingly, smirking as she scrolled away on her phone, relieved to see she still had thirty percent of her battery left.

Linda groaned, before pushing herself off the counter and giving Alba a serious look, "I think someone's casing the store."

Alba gave Linda a look, her eyebrow arched up as she stopped beside her. "What?"

Linda nodded, standing up straight as she motioned towards the door, "Yeah, like a second before you came in this guy walked in, completely terrifying looking, and he just looked at me before rushing out of the store. Freaky, right?"

Alba gave her a confused look, "What did he look like that made him so terrifying?"

Linda shrugged, "He was like 6 feet tall, he had this dry looking brown hair, it was like shoulder length, and he just looked scary, you know? I wouldn't doubt it if he carried a gun or a knife. All I'm saying is, I'm telling Sean when he comes in later to watch out, and you should too when you come in tomorrow." She explained.

Alba thought about the description, but nobody came to her mind, but she could never really remember people who came into the store _outside_ of the store. She only remembered them and what they liked in their coffee when they walked in.

"I'll be on the lookout tomorrow but I highly doubt they were planning to rob the store. They'd have better luck at the butcher's place next door. I gotta go; I don't want to be late." She said, looking at the time on her phone before pulling open the door on the side of the counter, walking around and towards the front door.

"Good luck!" Linda called, as Alba hurried from the store. Turning back the way she came, she headed towards the bus stop, mentally counting to see how long she had to catch her bus and make it to her meeting without being late. She hoped it all went well.

* * *

Alba sighed, cleaning up the remains of the morning rush. Three fourths of the muffins were gone, and she hoped the remaining 80 would last until closing, and she had the stacks of Styrofoam coffee cups placed on the counter by the coffee, ready for the rest of the coffee rush for Free Coffee Thursday.

She groaned when she looked towards the wall to the left of the front door; someone had gotten a cream cheese muffin and smeared it against the wall, leaving a long line of crumbs and goop. It was close to the ground near the table in the corner, and Alba immediately knew a child was to blame.

She walked towards the registers reached behind the counter, grabbing a small bucket and a rag before walking towards the mess, knelt down, and began scrubbing.

She was almost halfway done when she heard the door open and someone walk inside.

"I'll be right with you." Alba called over her shoulder, not looking at the customer as she tried to get one stubborn piece of goop off the wall before pushing herself off the floor and turning around.

She jumped in fright as she turned to face the customer behind her, who had been peering over her shoulder at the mess she was cleaning up. The bucket she was holding fell from her hands and would have fell to the ground, splashing soapy water everywhere, had the customer who had scared her not immediately stuck out their left hand, the bottom of the bucket hitting the palm of their hand roughly.

Bucky had taken a step back when he realized he scared her, but didn't hesitate to catch the bucket when it fell from her grasp, not wanting to cause any type of mess for her, and Alba gave him a wide smile. "Hey, those are some great reflexes! Here for your free coffee?" she asked, taking the bucket from his hand.

He nodded, unsure of what to say.

"Alright, follow me." She said, walking behind the counter. She placed the bucket on the empty counter by the little door, wiping off her hands on a dry rag before grabbing a large cup and pouring his coffee.

"Isn't this bad for business?" Bucky asked his voice low.

Alba glanced at him before looking back down at the coffee, "Yeah, but corporate or whoever it was thought that offering free coffee would bring in more customers and then they'd like to buy muffins as well. Plus, apparently they're having a raffle or whatever for whoever is rung up as the millionth costumer to get free coffee, but they haven't told me anything about it or what prize the customer gets, so it might not even be happening." She explained, pressing the lid down on the cup before placing it in front of Bucky on the counter.

"You're almost out of muffins." He said, nodding towards the wall behind her. Alba sighed, nodding, "I'd make more but normally the afternoon is pretty slow, even on free coffee day, so I'll just leave it. Would you like one? They're only a $1.50." she asked, waving her hand at the muffins with a small smirk on her lips.

Bucky's lips twitched upwards for a moment, amused at the look on her face as she waved towards the muffins, but shook his head.

She sighed, nodding, "I get the feeling you'll only ever get a large black coffee here. That's alright; it's great to have a new customer, anyway, regardless that they only get the coffee on free days." She gave him a smile, leaning against the counter.

Bucky smirked, before taking a drink of his coffee.

"Are you going to be staying in the store today?" Alba asked curiously.

"Would you like the company?" Bucky asked back, feeling comfortable talking to her. He wasn't completely relaxed, but he could tell that Alba had a silly way about her, like she enjoyed playing around with people she knew, so he didn't mind getting into a comfortable banter with her, like he would with Steve when they would talk.

Alba smiled, shrugging, "It's normally slow between nine and two o'clock, but I do need to clean that goop off the walls, sweep and try to fix the case." She said, absently waving a hand behind her.

Bucky nodded, thinking he should go meet Steve at the gym anyway. He hadn't worked out yet and it had almost been a week since his last gym visit.

"Well, goodbye." Bucky said, feeling a bit awkward saying it, before turning and walking towards the door.

"See you around!" she called, waving at his retreating form, and he was sure that he would.


	3. Chapter 3

_I've decided I'm gonna start posting new chapters every Monday so that way people who are reading this but don't have an account know when to check it. I don't know what time on Mondays, but it will be Mondays (I sometimes work nights on Mondays so I might not get around to posting until like 11pm Monday nights so just a warning). I'm also incorporating some stuff from the show "Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D." into this story, so if you've seen the show you'll understand some references I'll be using in the future. I don't own Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. either so none of that belongs to me. Thank you so much for all the feedback and support and I hope you enjoy this chapter!_

* * *

Steve was gone again the next week. Months before there had been a mass breakout by HYDRA at The Fridge, a S.H.I.E.L.D. facility and prison, freeing all of their high-risk prisoners and stealing a majority of their most dangerous and alien weapons. S.H.I.E.L.D. had received a hit that two of the prisoners were spotted in California, so Steve and a small team had been sent there Wednesday morning to capture them and bring them to the new S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters until all maintenance was done on The Fridge.

Bucky was out of his room by six, drank two cups of coffee while he scanned the newspaper, looking for any and all types of news on HYDRA. He knew it was hopeless to see if they printed any stories on them, the government wanting to keep everything new about them hush hush since it was all leaked onto the internet, but he wanted to make sure, since Steve could only share so much with him and Fury refused to give him any information until he joined S.H.I.E.L.D. as an agent.

He went to work out for a few hours, went back to his apartment and made himself some lunch, before glancing over at the clock on the stove.

It was almost four o'clock, and he knew it was Thursday. Would Alba be working today?

He decided he wanted to check, and threw on a sweatshirt and a glove for his left hand, leaving his hair down around his face as he left the apartment.

* * *

"Thank yoooouuu!" Linda whined out, leaning tiredly against the counter next to the industrial sink in the very back of the store; the counter was littered with coffee lids and metal measuring cups, waiting to be thrown into the sink.

Alba nodded absently, her lips turned down in a frown as she tried to tie on her apron. She couldn't get the knot right, and she frustratingly pulled it from around her neck and tossed it to the ground, angry and deciding she wasn't going to wear it for her shift.

Linda didn't notice the brunette's frustration as she began untying her own apron and throwing on her thin sweatshirt, "I really don't know what I would have done if I had to stay here until ten when Jack shows up to do the money, with my poli sci test tomorrow morning and all. I need to study, so thank you, Alba, so much." She went on, pulling out her phone as she turned to walk to the front of the store.

Alba nodded, "Just major in something that guarantees you a good job after college." She muttered bitterly, slugging on her hat and pulling her ponytail through the back.

"Did you say something?" Linda asked, looking up just as the front door opened.

She gasped and spun around, grabbing Alba and hurrying her deeper into the back of the store. "That guy is back!" she whispered harshly, her face paling.

Alba didn't feel the patience for this and gave the girl a look, "What guy?"

"That scary guy who's casing the store! I told you about him like a week ago." She said, tugging on Alba's arm. "We should call the police."

"Get out of here." Alba said, shoving the blonde slightly. She pulled her arm free and walked towards the front, peering out at the customer.

Bucky looked at her surprised from the front counter, and Alba felt an amused smile appear on her face. "I should have known you'd be here for your coffee." She said with a smirk.

Bucky found himself smiling as well, leaning his hip against the counter as he crossed his arms. He was so tall, Alba noticed, he could lean the bottom of his hip against the counter no problem. The counter for her came to just a few inches under her belly button. She hadn't noticed they had such a height difference before.

Linda peeked her head out from behind the archway, glancing at Bucky. "You know him?" she hissed.

Alba nodded, walking over to make his coffee, "He's a regular, stop acting weird." She said over her shoulder, before looking at Bucky and making an exaggerated annoyed face, sticking her tongue out of her mouth and rolling her eyes before mouthing _'Ignore her.' _

Linda didn't notice the face Alba made and studied Bucky with a weary look. Bucky shifted under her gaze, not meeting her eyes and instead watching Alba place the lid on his coffee.

"Well, I'm going," Linda started, pulling the swinging door on the side of the counter open. Alba met her eyes and Linda gave her a stern look, "Be safe."

Alba rolled her eyes before nodding, "Same to you."

Bucky and Alba stayed quiet until Linda hurriedly left the store, before Alba gave Bucky an apologetic look, "Sorry about her, she's a bit strange."

Bucky shrugged, picking up his coffee, "It's fine."

Alba gave him a small smile, "Are you going to be staying today?" she asked.

Bucky nodded, knowing he didn't have anything else to do. He was surprised to see Alba's small smile stretch until it reached her eyes, her teeth showing. Bucky noticed her bottom teeth were slightly crooked and she had a very small overbite, while her top teeth were perfectly straight. It was odd, but Bucky thought it suited her.

He turned and walked over to one of the tables, sitting on the side of it so he'd be able to look to his left and see out the window, and look to his right and see the counter and Alba as she began marking the glass coffee pots with the time and brewing another fresh batch.

When Alba would walk around the front of the store with the little bucket of cleaning solution and a rag and wash down the tables, she'd ask him questions like how his week was going and if he wanted a refill (which he did).

By six o'clock a small rush came into the store, and Bucky watched curiously as Alba worked. He hadn't seen her work this much before, and he was interested in knowing her habits. She fidgeted a lot when she'd stand there waiting for the customer to pick out their muffins, and she never got the costumers their coffee until after they paid for their muffins or lattes that they also ordered.

She'd greet them all with a smile, and she was familiar with all of them; most of them laughing and saying how she was always working and needed to take a break some time, which would cause Alba to just shake her head and say "life costs money." Some of the customers slid dollars across the counter for her, which Alba slipped into her pocket before giving them the biggest smile she could muster before getting to work on their coffees, lattes, ice coffees, or whatever else they ordered.

It was nearly seven thirty when the store emptied again, and Alba leaned against the counter as the door closed before looking over at Bucky. They both met eyes and she gave him a small smile, "Sorry it got so noisy."

He shook his head, "I would expect so, considering it's free coffee day."

Alba nodded, grabbing the red bucket and rag again and began wiping down the few tables some people had sat in within the last hour and a half, wiping off the crumbs and spills.

"Have you ever worked in fast food?" Alba asked curiously, glancing over her shoulder at Bucky.

He shook his head, "I wouldn't consider this fast food, though."

Alba smirked, shrugging, "Fast coffee and muffins then. I worked at this store's sister store in my hometown; _that_ was fast food. We offered sandwiches along with muffins and other pastries, we even had a drive-thru. Never, ever work somewhere with a drive-thru, especially if you suck at multitasking like me." She chuckled, turning away from Bucky to move on to the next table.

"That store was painted bright yellow too; it always gave me a headache. Thankfully this place is just light blue and peach. It's always good to like the colors of the place you're working at, and to not work anywhere with a drive-thru." She said clear amusement in her voice as she brought up the drive thru again.

Bucky gave her a look. Steve didn't own a car and neither did he, so Bucky had yet to experience a drive-thru. "Was it that bad?"

"Working the drive-thru?" Alba asked, turning around to look at him. She pulled out one of the bar stools at the bar that was against the wall to the right of the front door, and took a seat facing Bucky. "If you can handle it, it isn't, but I couldn't. I need to do things one at a time or I get confused and I panic. Say there's a rush in the drive-thru, and as soon as a car moves up another one takes it place within seconds, and you have to take their order, while also reading back the order of the car at the window, counting out the person at the window's change while giving the other person their total, it's complicated, at least it was for me. Thankfully, there were two other people also wearing headsets so they'd normally take over while I worked the window during the rush. But during the night shift when it was just me and the shift leader, it would mostly just be me working the drive-thru _and_ the front counter. It was insane." She explained, slouching a bit as she leaned her elbows against her knees.

Bucky nodded, "It sounds bad."

Alba smiled, "So you never worked in fast food? That's like the typical teenage job for our generation; for like the last two generations I think. Unless I'm wrong and you're a hell of a lot older than you look."

Bucky smirked, glancing down at his half empty coffee. "I'm twenty-six."

Alba nodded, "I'm twenty-five. What do you do for a living?" she asked.

Bucky hesitated, glancing up at her before she suddenly shook her head, "Sorry, that was a little personal, wasn't it?"

Bucky didn't respond. The two of them held each others gaze before Alba spoke again, "Okay, let's think of a not-so-personal question; How long have you lived in Washington?"

"About six months." Bucky said.

"Six years for me, I came for college. Did you go to college?" Alba asked.

Bucky shook his head, turning his eyes down to the table.

Alba pursed her lips, "Do you want me to stop talking to you?"

Bucky shook his head again, glancing back at her. Alba smiled a little, "Do you have any siblings?"

Bucky paused. That was one of the things he remembered; Steve had dug up some old photographs of Bucky and her together and it had jogged a great deal of memories for him. He wondered briefly if he should lie or be honest. He decided he'd be honest, "A…a younger sister."

Alba smiled, "What's her name?"

"Rebecca."

"That's a really pretty name. How many years younger is she to you?"

"Twelve." Bucky muttered, turning his eyes back down to the table. "And you?" he asked, wanting to move the subject away from him.

"Four older sisters and two older brothers." Alba said proudly, "I am the seventh youngest Donoghue in my family, not including the dozen nieces and nephews I have."

Bucky looked surprised as he looked back over at her, but he nodded his head. "What's your age difference?"

"My oldest siblings, they're a set of twins, and me have an age difference of ten years, they're thirty-five now, both married, both with their own little bunch of kids. You should see us at Christmas, even if we got everyone just one present the living room is still filled to the brim with gifts, but at least it feels pretty festive with so many people." She chuckled.

Bucky noticed how happy Alba looked as she talked about her family. He wondered if he would look that happy if he actually talked in detail about his family. He could talk about them with Steve, but Steve already knew everything to know about Bucky's family, and Bucky wasn't too comfortable with Alba just yet to start telling her about his family. He doubted he ever would be.

He blinked, wondering why he would even _consider_ telling her as much about his family as she was to him.

The phone in the back started ringing and Alba sighed, rolling her eyes, "Better go answer it. We got a complaint last month that we never answer the phone here, so the store manager wasn't too happy." She muttered as she walked past Bucky and behind the counter, walking through the archway leading to the back of the store Bucky couldn't see from his seat.

A few minutes past as Bucky drank his coffee and stared out at the dark streets of Washington. He saw someone approach the store and walk in, looking around behind the counter expectantly.

It was a man; he looked to be about Alba's age. He had short blond hair and a goatee, and he was dressed casually, with a multicolored tattoo peeking out from under the sleeve on his forearm.

He turned towards Bucky, his dark eyes narrowing as he studied him, "Is Alba working tonight?" he asked.

Bucky hesitated, not liking the feeling he got from this man. He was about to tell him no when Alba reappeared from the archway and the man looked her way, a sly grin appearing on his face.

Bucky glanced in Alba's direction, careful not to move his head so she didn't know he was watching her as well, and saw she grimaced before putting on an obviously fake smile as she walked over to the cash register.

"Good evening, it's Free Coffee Thursday. How would you like your coffee, sir?" she said through clenched teeth.

The guy chuckled, walking over to the counter and leaning down against it, looking up at her. "Uh, give me the usual."

"I'm sorry _sir_," Alba started, "I'm not familiar with your order."

He chuckled, "Oh, playing that card, eh? Large iced coffee, six creams and three sugars, _babe_."

Bucky saw the glare she sent him at the pet name, before walking away to the back of the store, where Bucky figured they kept the ice and the plastic cups they used for ice coffees.

"Come on, Ali, I just wanna talk." The man called as Alba returned briefly to put cream and sugar in the plastic cup before disappearing behind the archway once again.

Alba returned, spinning the large cup in her hands to mix up the contents, before placing it roughly on the counter in front of the man. "Large iced coffee, six creams and three sugars. If that will be all, I have to finish up closing the store."

He stood up, leaning his hands against the counter, "Just talk to me, hun. We can't talk like adults for five god damned minutes?" he asked.

Alba paused, glancing past him towards Bucky. He was glad he wore his hair down so Alba couldn't see that his eyes were trained on her through his brown locks.

The man glanced behind him a scuffed before looking back at her, "He's not even paying attention, come on."

Alba sighed, "Five minutes, that's all you get."

"Wanna go out for drinks after work?" he asked, and Alba rolled her eyes, taking a step away from the counter, "That's not talking!" she groaned.

"God, why are you overreacting? It's just _drinks_." He said defensively.

"I'm overreacting? You said you wanted to talk, instead you ask me out for drinks." She said, waving a hand towards him.

"You always do this. There is nothing to talk about anyway; you overreacted last time, and I'm willing to give you a second chance. You should take it." He said simply, shrugging his shoulders.

Alba gawked at him, her lips twitching upwards before she let out a disbelieving laugh.

"I overreacted _last time_? I honestly don't think I overreacted _enough_ last time. I _should_ have overreacted when you started coming over smelling like that cheap perfume that I hate; I _should_ have overreacted when I found diamond earrings in your car glove box that weren't mine; I _should_ have given you two black eyes when I found you fucking that nineteen year old in _my_ bed in _my_ apartment and I _should_ have set both your clothes on fire instead of throwing them out the window, so you could walk home naked and feel a _smidge_ of the humiliation I felt walking in on that. You are a cheating asshole who I dumped a year ago and who should learn to leave me the hell alone." She said, leaning against the counter with a dangerous look in her eyes.

Bucky turned his head towards her then, his eyes wide at the sudden information he had learned. How could a man do that to _his_ girl? That just wasn't right. There wasn't any honor in it, and he suddenly felt the need to go give the guy a piece of his own mind in that moment.

The man slowly nodded his head, picking up his drink and peeling the lid off. He spun it around a bit, before glancing back up at Alba, "Well, I might be a cheating asshole, but I'm at least a cheating asshole with a career, a car and a _future_, instead of some psychotic bitch working in a coffee house at twenty-five." He said simply, before taking his coffee and splashing the contents against her shirt.

Alba didn't even have time to react before she was standing there, soaking wet with her mouth hung open as she stared in front of her shocked.

Bucky stood so quickly in his chair it flew back and hit the table behind him roughly.

He was at the man within seconds, his left hand picking the man up by the collar before punching him roughly across the jaw.

"W-What the-?!" The man started, falling to the ground as soon as Bucky let go of his shirt. He cradled his, most likely, broken jaw as he looked up fearfully at Bucky.

"Leave. And don't come back." Bucky said darkly, glaring at him before the man scrambled to his feet and bolted towards the door, running as fast as he could.

Bucky turned to look at Alba, who had now moved her shocked expression from the counter to him. He looked down at her shirt, taking in the damage.

Her white shirt had gone completely see-through and Bucky could clearly see her plain white bra, along with black writing scrawled across the right side of her ribcage, a tattoo.

"Are you okay?" he asked, looking back up at her face. Alba slowly nodded, "Y-You didn't have to do that," she started.

"What he did wasn't right; he deserved more than he got, then and now." He said simply.

Alba's face turned a slight pink color, "I can't believe I went off like that. He just, _ugh_, he brings out the absolute worst of me." She muttered, crossing her arms. She suddenly remembered she was soaking wet as her arms touched her chest and she jumped, looking down at her see-through shirt before her face turned a deep shade of scarlet as she wrapped her arms around her chest.

She looked up at Bucky, before stuttering out, "I-I gonna go fine another s-shirt. Um, j-just call me if a costumer comes in," She said quickly, before running towards the archway. A puddle of coffee was spilled on the floor around her, and she slipped and stumbled forward as she ran, but caught herself as she continued before disappearing to the back of the store.

Bucky arched an eyebrow in her direction, before leaning over the counter and looking at the large puddle of light brown coffee and ice scattered on the floor. He bent down and picked up the empty plastic cup the man had dropped on the floor, along with the lid and walked towards the trash can to throw them away.

Alba reappeared wearing just a light blue hoodie with the zipper pulled all the way to the top. She stood in the archway, examining the mess on the floor before sighing and running back to where she disappeared to.

Bucky pulled a handful of napkins out of the dispenser next to the counter and bar stools and walked back to the front counter, cleaning up as much as he could to help her in the slightest.

After a few minutes Alba returned with a mop and a Styrofoam cup. She kneeled down to the floor and began picking up the half melted ice before placing the cup aside and mopping up the mess.

"Do you need any help?" Bucky asked as he watched her, unsure of what to do after cleaning up the little mess on the counter.

Alba shook her head, "It's against protocol to have you back here helping me, even if the manager was here. If the store owner walked in and saw you, I'd be fired instantly, so I can't really risk it as much as I want to." She explained, looking over towards the muffins. She sighed, "He even managed to get it on the food that jerk." She muttered.

A number of muffins were wet, covered in coffee and ice, no longer sellable.

Bucky glanced at the clock, "Well, it looks like your about to close anyway."

Alba nodded, "I know but I normally bring the leftover muffins to Mrs. Beckett's kids." She sighed, placing the mop aside before grabbing the rag and red bucket off the counter and began wiping down the metal parts of the case, cleaning it of coffee.

"Who's Mrs. Beckett?" Bucky asked curiously.

"She lives across the hall from me; she has five kids and supports them all by herself. She gets child support from one of her two ex-husbands and she's on food stamps and stuff, but she can't really afford a lot regardless. That's what she's told me, anyways." She explained, turning around and leaning against the case.

"Her kids are all still pretty small. The youngest is two, I believe. Anyway, I remembered being like a vacuum when it came to eating when I was growing up, and if Mrs. Beckett has a hard enough time affording groceries, I don't think she's spending that money on junk food, you know? It all goes to breads and meat and eggs and milk, stuff that's practical and that will feed them all. So, when I work closing shifts I pack up maybe two or three dozen muffins, or whatever we have leftover, and I bring it by their apartment when I get home. Her kids love them; they pop 'em in the microwave for ten seconds and it's like they're fresh. They eat 'em for breakfast or snacks when they get home from school, and they're always thanking me when they see me, probably glad they can get a small sugar rush." She explained, chuckling.

Bucky stared at her, his eyebrows raised slightly, his expression a mixture of surprise and awe.

'_So that's what she was doing the night it rained so badly.'_ He thought, remembering seeing her packing away all those muffins.

"That's very kind of you." He finally said, which caused Alba to only shrug, "I think it's just the decent thing to do. All our neighbors help her in any way that they can, but not all of them are able to give her the amount of junk food that I do." She laughed, before glancing at the case, "I guess I'm not bringing them any muffins tonight. But it should be fine; I brought them two dozen last night."

She pushed herself off the case and looked up at the clock, "Its five minutes past closing." She muttered, before turning to Bucky. "You _technically_ aren't supposed to be in here now."

Bucky gave her a look, "Are you asking me to leave?"

She shrugged, "You don't have to if you don't want to, but I do need to finish cleaning and throw the muffins away, mop, do the dishes, and then wait for my manager to get here at ten."

Bucky gave her a confused look, "Why?"

She smirked, "You have to promise not to tell." She said, holding up her pointer finger to her lips.

Bucky nodded, and Alba continued, "His brother owns this store, but his brother likes to make it known that he doesn't show favorites, so my manager doesn't really get away with much. Well, my manager, Jack, his wife just had their first baby and his brother, Robert, won't let him take paternity leave because he knew Jack's wife had been given four months maternity leave from her job. Jack, knowing Robert never comes to the store until the first and last of every month, decided he'd take paternity leave anyway, he just wouldn't tell him.

"He still makes the schedule and comes in, but it's really rare. He comes in and clocks in on his shift, and then he leaves. He comes back later that night, at around ten, to count the money and put it in the safe. He sets everything up for me or Sean, who's another worker here, he's been here almost as long as I have so the two of us are Jack's most trusted employees, and then we handle the store the entire day while he's at home spending time with his family and getting paid for it, all while Robert doesn't know a thing." She explained.

"That's terrible," Bucky said, gawking at her. "That isn't fair to you."

Alba shrugged, "But it wasn't fair to him; every father deserves at least a little time off after their first baby is born, even if it's just a week. Granted, Jack's been doing this for over two months, but he said he'd be back by next week. It's a lot of extra work but I don't mind staying here for two hours after closing to wait for him. Since he trusts Sean and I so much, he lets us do the money, which means we collect it from the registers and count it, but he won't give us access to the safe so then we wait for Jack to get here to count it again in case we made a mistake and put it away and set up the register drawers for tomorrow, and it's an extra two hours of pay, and I get to lounge around in the back of the store playing on the computer and listening to music. Not too bad." She explained, smirking.

Bucky gave her a look, before shaking his head slightly, "You're being taken advantage of."

She shrugged again, "Yeah, most likely, but I don't mind, and I don't think Sean minds either. Linda, on the other hand, hates it and normally comes up with excuses to get one of us to cover her night shifts. I think tonight's excuse was true though; she said she needed to study for a political science test that's early tomorrow morning and staying here until ten would be bad. Normally she says she needs to watch her dog or she thinks she left her hot plate on in her dorm room, which completely cancels out the first excuse because most colleges don't let you have pets in your dorm room."

Bucky nodded, before Alba leaned against the counter and gave him a smirk, "Thanks for caring so much."

Bucky stared at her; he hadn't realized that was what he was doing. All he did was tell her what he thought, which wasn't much but enough to get his point across. It was the same thing he did with Steve. As the memories came back to Bucky, he remembered how he used to always talk to the blonde, his mannerisms and whatnot, and just kept on like that once he remembered. He knew he cared about Steve; the super soldier was in so many of his memories he found it impossible not to care about him, but Bucky was surprised to learn that he cared about Alba in that moment; he cared about her safety from her ex-boyfriend, he cared enough to ask if she needed help cleaning, and he cared that she was being taken advantage of by her manager. He'd only met this girl twice before, he was genuinely surprised at how much he cared.

He pushed the feeling aside, however. He'd only met her twice before, he wasn't going to make a habit of caring. He doubted she cared as much about him. She was required to serve him coffee and smile and be nice to her customers, what was different with how she treated Bucky?

'_She acts calmer around me than when a crowd of people is present. Relaxed, and she doesn't have a filter around me.'_ Bucky noted, trying to think of differences.

"It's nothing." He finally muttered, turning his eyes away and moving back towards his table. He took his empty coffee cup and threw it away, before walking towards the door.

"I'll see you around!" Alba called, and Bucky turned to look at her. She smiled, giving him a curt nod, "And thanks for punching out my worthless ex."

Bucky nodded, "You're welcome."


	4. Chapter 4

Bucky went to the underground S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters that Tuesday by himself. Steve had opted out of going to the gym and instead went on a run with Sam, leaving Bucky alone.

The new headquarters were located almost ten miles away from the apartment, which meant Bucky took the city bus half way there before walking the rest of the way himself.

It was on the outskirts of the city, amongst dirty old car garages and graffiti covered condemned apartment buildings. Bucky walked up to the smallest, red brick apartment building with dozens of different gang signs spray painted against the bricks. He pushed open the rusted metal door roughly, closing it in one swift motion with his left hand once he was inside, and walked towards the elevator.

There was the typical Up and Down buttons, and neither of them worked, unless you knew the right code.

'_Up, up, down, up, down, down.'_ Bucky thought, pressing the buttons before the elevator dinged, the rusted doors sliding open to reveal a sleek silver interior. He stepped inside, leaning against the back wall, crossing his arms. "Floor five."

"Access granted Sergeant Barnes." The female computerized voice rang throughout the elevator, and Bucky watched the numbers on the monitor above the doors go up from one to five.

The elevator took him underground, and as the doors slid open a number of agents were bustling about on the floor, files in hands, earpieces in their ears as they spoke to whoever was on the other end of their comm., and a few of the agents dared to look towards Bucky as he got off the elevator, freezing for a moment before returning to work.

He turned down the winding hallway,_ (left turn, left turn, right turn)_ before finally stopping in front of the tall wooden door reinforced with some type of bullet proof metal, as was all the doors throughout the base.

He didn't bother knocking as he twisted the handle and stepped inside, seeing Dr. Carver seated at his desk writing in his large notebook, most likely scribbling down some last minute information from his last session.

"Please, sit, James; I won't be a moment more." Dr. Carver said without looking up.

Bucky shut the door behind him before moving over to one of the two chairs set up in the center of the room. He took the one on the right, leaning back against it and stretching out his legs, waiting for his session to begin.

After a few more minutes Dr. Carver picked up his clipboard and pen and walked over to the chair opposite Bucky, giving him a warm smile. "How are you this morning, James?" he asked.

Bucky shrugged, "Fine." He started.

Dr. Carver began scribbling across the clipboard, "Why don't we start on your sleeping patterns first?" he asked as he wrote.

Bucky didn't answer, feeling a wave of self-hatred wash over him from the previous night's events.

"How many hours have you been getting?"

"Four." Bucky muttered, gripping the armrests.

"Any memories?"

Bucky hesitated, before slowly nodding his head. He didn't need to look at Dr. Carver to know he had an expectant look on his face, signaling for him to continue.

"It was HYDRA." He muttered, his jaw set tight. "They were fighting me into the chair, getting ready to wipe my mind after a mission went sour."

It was when he first became the Winter Soldier, when they unfroze him in the late fifties for an assassination of a government official in Germany and his wife. He had been fully prepared to kill the man and his wife, but had hesitated when he saw the wife was heavily pregnant. He still had pieces of Bucky in him, with memories of a young woman pregnant and smiling at a child version of himself, but he couldn't remember the woman's name or relation to him, but he knew in his gut killing this woman was wrong. He managed to kill the government official but his hesitation with the wife gave the German police enough time to get to the scene, causing Bucky to flee before he could finish the job.

He remembered punching and snapping necks when he returned to the HYDRA base, anger and fear washing over him as dozens of men rushed at him, some with guns and others with syringes ready to stab into his skin. He grabbed guns out of the agents hands, shooting them in the head as he tried to escape through the door, but they had managed to grab him and throw him down into the chair, the restraints locking around his arms and legs tightly as they shoved the mouth guard into his mouth and held it there so he couldn't spit it out.

He was struggling, screaming as the electricity pulsed through his head, trying to rip his arms free of their restraints, his hands balled into fists.

Just when he felt his body go dull, someone was gripping his shoulders, calling out his name that suddenly seemed so unrecognizable. Bucky didn't hesitate to punch the person shaking him in the face, his left hand colliding with their jaw roughly.

Bucky blinked, trying to swallow the knot in his throat but was unsuccessful.

"Steve tried to wake me up from it, he said I was screaming, but when I woke up I didn't remember anything. I punched him, attacked him, but Steve didn't fight back. He just kept telling me it was just a dream and that I was safe and okay." He gulped, shaking his head, feeling disgusted with himself for hurting Steve.

He always did, any time he had a nightmare. It was something he figured out in the past seven months; he'd remember good things while he was awake, but whenever he was asleep the memories he'd get were of HYDRA; of them experimenting on him, fighting him into that awful chair the first few times before becoming so blank that there would be no fight, getting him into the cryo-chamber where he would stay frozen for years upon years until they needed him once more, and of him murdering countless numbers of people because they had told him it was the right thing to do, that he was helping make the country a better place when he was actually helping destroy it.

He hated sleep. It never did any good for him, so he tried his best not to. He'd lay awake in his bed; sometimes reading the mountain of books Steve had in their apartment or working out to pass the time. He had even asked Steve to make sure any guns or knives were out of the apartment when Steve was away on missions, in case Bucky woke up from one of his nightmarish memories and thought he was still the Winter Soldier and tried to attack someone.

"It was good that he didn't. If he had fought back it might have taken you longer to completely wake up from the dream." Dr. Carver said, scribbling along his clipboard once more. He noticed the pained expression on Bucky's face and placed the clipboard flat on his lap before leaning closer to Bucky, a seriously expression on his face, "James," he said.

Bucky heard him, but continued to stare down at the floor, his nails on his right hand digging deep into the leather of the chair while his left hand was making the wood underneath the fabric crack.

"I do not want you to feel bad for attacking Steve. This has happened many times before and Steve has always understood. This is part of your recovery. Gaining your memories back and becoming yourself again means accepting the good and the bad you remember. You were frightened, and believed Steve was HYDRA so you lashed out. Steve was able to talk you down, as he always has been, until you came to. Do not relapse into a moment of self-hatred for doing something that is of natural response when you feel threated. It will take you a while before you develop new natural responses, until then, some of them are still very much like your Winter Soldier persona. As a soldier you would fight first, ask questions later. Learning to be yourself again, you will learn that fighting isn't always the first response and it should only be used during drastic measures. Do you understand?" Dr. Carver asked.

Bucky didn't respond, but he did look up to meet Dr. Carver's eyes, his grip on the armrests loosening.

The doctor gave him a small smile before leaning back in his chair, picking up the clipboard and pen again. "Now, let's move on from your sleeping habits. I've learned that you don't particularly like discussing them. So, tell me what's happened this past week."

Bucky sighed, bringing his legs back towards him before shrugging, "I broke this assholes jaw Thursday night."

Dr. Carver gave him a surprised look, "James, I thought we discussed that you would refrain from getting into altercations with civilians. You're far too strong and will rise quite a bit of suspicion-,"

"He deserved it." Bucky interrupted, glaring at the doctor. "He assaulted the girl from the coffee house, throwing coffee on her. Not to mention he cheated on her and was possibly stalking her since she mentioned that he tried talking to her a lot since she broke up with him. A guy doesn't do stuff like that to his girl. When you date a girl you date _her_, you don't go fooling around behind her back or in _her_ home. That isn't right, and a dame like Alba deserves far better. Trust me, I was showing some self-control when I let the fat-head get away with just a broken jaw." He explained, feeling a rush of anger at the memory.

Dr. Carver's surprised looked seem to melt away as Bucky explained the situation, replaced with a small smile as he leaned back in his chair and wrote something down on the clipboard.

Bucky caught the doctor's look, "What?" he asked.

"Some of the vocabulary you chose you use, it surprised me." He explained, still smiling.

Bucky was confused, before Dr. Carver continued, "You used a few choice words that were used more frequently in the 1940s, words that are rarely used today. I believe, despite the fact you resorted to violence, that talking about this experience, about a man who cheated on 'his girl', something you believed in the 40s and still do today to be wrong, brought back a rush of emotion, the same type of emotion you would have felt 70 years prior, and it let you slip back into yourself from that time period. Do you understand?"

Bucky paused, his brow furrowed as he thought, "Yeah."

Dr. Carver nodded a delighted look on his face, "Fantastic. But, for the future, please remember to steer clear of violence. You seem to have become friends with this coffee girl, Alba you said her name was; perhaps she can help you like Steve helps you. This incident involved her, and it brought back some choice vocabulary from your time period. Perhaps spending more time with her can help you remember some of your old ways. I recall you telling me Steve had told you that you were quite the ladies' man. I'm not suggesting you flirt though, I don't think a relationship would be wise at this moment; I'm suggesting that spending time with a girl and become her friend, as you often did in the 40s, might help bring back some little things you are still struggling to remember. How about it?" he asked expectantly.

Bucky gave him a look, not too sure he wanted to spend too much time with Alba. He was sure at this point that she had no connects to HYDRA, but he still wasn't sure if he could trust her or not. Not to mention if he spent too much time in that shop and the organization found him, they might think he was close to her, and then she'd be in danger because of him.

But if spending _some_ time with her at the coffee house would help him trigger something, he would give it a shot. From what Steve had told him, S.H.I.E.L.D. was on top of hunting down all the HYDRA affiliates, meaning Bucky was as safe from them as could be, along with any friends he made along the way.

* * *

By ten o'clock his session was done and he took the bus for five miles before beginning his walk home.

Bucky turned the corner, glancing towards the coffee house in his peripheral vision. The last time he checked the coffee house after one of his sessions she wasn't there, and he felt like an idiot for walking into the shop for nothing.

He strained his eyes to look through the tinted windows and saw two figures standing behind the counter talking. One had short, shoulder length hair tucked behind their ears and the other had long, waist length hair.

Bucky didn't even think twice before pulling the door open and stepping inside.

The blonde, Linda, looked at him warily while Alba turned towards the door and grinned. "Whoa, you're actually coming in on a day where the coffee isn't free? I'm shocked!" she said playfully.

Bucky couldn't hide the smirk on his lips as he walked towards the counter. He noticed only Linda wore the uniform, while Alba had her hair down and was in a grey V-neck t-shirt and jean capri pants.

Linda didn't move to the register or ask for his order; instead, Alba walked towards the coffee machine and poured him a large black coffee. "Even though I shouldn't do this, I'm just so happy you came in on a day that wasn't free coffee day, your coffee is on me today." She said, placing his coffee on the counter before tapping at the screen, the recipe printing off before she crumpled it and tossed it in the trash behind the counter.

"You didn't have to," Bucky started, but Alba shook her head, "Please, it's the least I could do." She told him, before picking up a large plastic cup of water off the counter and taking a sip though the straw, "Plan on staying in the store today?"

Bucky quickly shook his head. The only reasons he ever stayed in the store was because Alba was his company. He didn't think spending the afternoon in the company of the nervous blonde next to her would be too gratifying.

Alba nodded, "Any plans at all?" she asked.

Bucky shook his head again. Steve was home, but he knew he couldn't spend all his time with Steve, especially when he knew his friend was trying to ask out a certain former S.H.I.E.L.D. turned CIA agent named Sharon. Bucky didn't want to get in the way of that and if Steve had a day to himself he could finally take that step, something Bucky remembered trying to get Steve to do before getting the serum back in the 40s.

Alba grinned, "Well then, are you interested in taking a stroll through Washington? They're almost done cleaning out all the debris from that S.H.I.E.L.D. incident so the city's almost back to its former glory." She asked.

Bucky hesitated at the mention of the helicarrier attacks, a rush of memories flooding him; the men and women he killed to get up to the helicarriers, nearly killing Steve and watching him fall into Potomac before diving in after him to save him.

He clenched his jaw, closing his eyes tightly in hopes to blink away the memories, before slowly nodding his head.

"Great. I'll refill my water and we can go." She said, and when Bucky opened his eyes again Alba was walking through the archway in the back, her cup in hand.

Bucky felt Linda's eyes burning holes into his face and the moment he turned to meet her eyes, a small glare in his, she paled and looked towards the muffin case, fiddling with her hands nervously.

Alba reappeared, cup filled with water in one hand before grabbing her purse off the counter and swinging it onto her shoulder, "Alright, let's go!" she said happily, pushing the swinging door open and walking towards the front door with Bucky following behind her.

"Be safe!" Linda called, which made Alba roll her eyes before sending her a quick wave as they walked out of the store.

Alba turned right, walking towards the corner, and Bucky fell in step next to her. He glanced down at her as she sipped on her water, "No coffee for you?" he asked curiously.

They turned right at the corner and Alba smirked as a small pink color rose to her cheeks and shook her head, "I actually…hate coffee."

Bucky stared at her a moment, before a large grin forced its way onto his lips and he let out a choked laugh. He couldn't help himself in that moment, despite all his training to hide his emotions and to not let himself become so vulnerable, he let himself be overcome with laughter and he placed his metal hand against his abdomen as he laughed, shaking his head, "I-I can't believe you just said that!" he managed.

Alba was laughing too, her face still a shade of pink, "It's the truth!" she argued.

Bucky took in a deep breath before looking down at her, a smirk plastered on his face. "How did you come to work in a coffee house if you hate coffee?"

Alba shrugged, "I worked in their sister store first, remember? They were more pastries than coffee, and when I moved here for college I needed a job so my manager called this store, talked to Jack and he hired me. I've tried coffee, I just can't stand the taste, no matter how many sweeteners I put in it, it just tastes bitter to me. I normally just lie and tell the customers the easiest type of coffee to make when they ask for my opinion." She explained.

Bucky shook his head, in utter disbelief at what she just told him. He thought it was the funniest thing in the world, a girl who hates coffee working in a coffee house.

"You have a really nice laugh, by the way." Alba commented, glancing up at him.

Bucky paused, suddenly caught off guard he had laughed like that. He'd only honestly laughed like that twice before, both times with Steve, and they were both reminiscing over things Bucky remembered. Steve had told him when he laughed like that, it was like nothing had ever happened to Bucky, he was the same. Had he really, in that moment, laughed like himself again? He couldn't believe it.

"Also," Alba started, leaning to her left side as they stopped at an intersection, waiting to cross. She looked up at him expectantly, "You know my name, but I have yet to learn yours. I typically learn my customers names from their credit cards, but considering you are a free coffee day junkie, I have yet to learn it."

Bucky thought it over. He knew she was waiting on a name, and he was debating what to give her. He could tell her James, which was what Dr. Carver called him, but he didn't think it would sound right coming from her. Fury, Natasha and another S.H.I.E.L.D. agent named Clint called him Barnes, but that wouldn't sound right either. Steve had told him that everyone in all of Brooklyn knew him as Bucky; his friends, family, and all the dames he'd take out on dates. He was known so well by Bucky it was even on his grave marker and on the plaque in the Smithsonian.

Now, the only other person left who called him Bucky was Steve.

"My friend calls me Bucky." He finally said, deciding he wanted to know what it sounded like coming from her.

Alba nodded, pursing her lips together as she thought it over, before a look of realization hit her and Bucky could see a hint of confusion on her features.

"What?" he asked.

Alba shook her head as the signal across the street alerted them to cross.

"Nothing, you just said something and I thought it was odd," she said quickly, taking a sip of her drink.

Bucky quirked an eyebrow in her direction, waiting for her to continue.

Alba sighed, "Well, you said friend. Not friend_s_, plural. Did you mean that in you only have one friend in total or you only have one friend who calls you that?" she asked.

Bucky's jaw clenched and he stared down at the sidewalk, deciding not to answer.

Alba seemed to get her answer from the silence before she took another sip of her water, a small frown on her lips, "Hmm," she started.

Bucky glanced at her in his peripheral. She was staring up at the sky, chewing on her bottom lip.

"What?" he asked.

"Bucky." She stated, bouncing a bit on her heels as she said it.

"Yes?" he asked, surprised at how much he enjoyed the sound of his name with her voice. He wondered how his full name would sound like now, and almost felt eager to tell her.

"Just testing it out; I like it, it suits you." She said, giving him a smile as they stopped at another intersection, waiting to cross at the cross walk leading towards a small park.

Bucky chuckled, staring down at the street, "Thanks." He muttered.

The light changed and the two of them hurried over to the park, walking along the concrete path, chatting and staring at the trees and greenery.

"So you haven't always lived in Washington." Alba said, looking over at him. Bucky shook his head, and Alba nodded. "Where are you from?"

"Brooklyn." He remembered some of it; the apartment his family lived in, going to church with his parents and sister and Steve and his mother, fighting off all the worthless idiots who would beat up Steve in alleyways around the city, taking a few choice girls out on dates to Cooney Island or the movies. He liked remembering those things. On days he never remembered anything new, he'd think about those memories and be grateful he remembered that much.

"Oh my brother's fiancé is from Brooklyn." Alba replied, swishing around her half empty cup of water before taking another sip.

Bucky looked at her, "Where are _you_ from?" interested in knowing more about the short brunette next to him.

"Oxford; it's a small town in Illinois, about an hour away from Chicago. Most of my family lives up there or in Tennessee, so I'm the odd one out moving to Washington." She explained.

"Why did you?" he asked; if Bucky still had his family, he'd go back to them in a minute. He couldn't imagine all the memories from spending some time with Rebecca would trigger.

"I was planning on moving back home when I turned twenty-four, but that was only if my plans went through, which they didn't. I stayed here for college, got an apartment, a job, and I've been working my ass off trying to start my career but it's been stuck at square one since I was twenty. I'm starting to think my dream career is just that, a _dream_, and I should quit now and go home." She paused, looking over at Bucky with a sad smile on her lips, "I mean, you heard my ex. I'm a twenty-five year old working in a coffee house with no future. He's an asshole, but he had a point. I don't want to sell people coffee forever, but I'm kind of stuck right now." She explained.

"What are you trying to do?" he asked, his brow furrowed.

A small, warm smile stretched across Alba's face, "I would love to be a published author." She said, looking up at him. "I've written three complete books since I graduated, and wrote two while I was in college, but I don't want to try and publish those, they aren't as good as the other three. My Creative Writing professor, he's an award winning author and he loved my third book, helped me get meetings with editors and publishers because he was so sure I could make it. They all turned me down though, even the ones he was friends with and put in a good word for me. I've sent copies of all three of my books to hundreds of publishers, with no luck. I had a meeting with one of them two weeks ago, Edison Books near the center of the city, and they got back to me last Thursday and told me they weren't interested; I'm sure I've been rejected by nearly two hundred publishers by this point. I've even been rejected by publishers overseas." She sighed, begrudgingly taking a sip of her water, "Majoring in Professional Writing with a Minor in Creative Writing might not have been such a great idea if none of these companies want my books."

"Can't you do something else involving writing until your book gets publish? If you don't like making coffee all day," Bucky asked curiously.

Alba nodded, "I could. My sister Maggie told me I should try getting a teaching certificate and teach English or Creative Writing classes, but even though I have over a dozen nieces and nephews, my patience can only last so long around kids. Being a teacher I'd be dealing with a hundred or more students a day, five days a week, nine months out of the year. I'd probably jump off a building after grading so much homework. And don't get me started on trying to be a journalist either, I could never do that. I can't seem to write well if someone tells me what to write. It has to be my idea, my choice, and a good enough time frame to write it in. So that career choice is down the tubes for me." She explained, taking the last sip of her water before tossing it in a passing trash can.

"Sounds like you're just making excuses." Bucky countered, tossing his coffee away before crossing his arms.

Alba gawked at him, "Gosh, you sound like my mother. Believe me; in high school when I'd have to write book reports for my advance English classes I would always get mediocre grades on them. I would get straight A's for the class in general, but the assigned writings where I didn't get to pick the prompt and the book reports where they gave me a question about the book I had to answer with a two page paper, I'd get a B minus at best, maybe a C if the due date wasn't farther away from the date it was assigned." She explained.

She pointed a finger at him, "I could even show you these papers and my report cards, I probably have them somewhere in my apartment, as proof that they're terrible but I was still an A student."

Bucky shook his head, a smirk still visible on his features, "No, I believe you." He said, waving his hand back and forth to further his point that he wasn't interested in seeing them.

Alba grinned triumphantly at Bucky before crossing her own arms over her chest and giving him an expectant look, "Well you know what I do for a living and what I _want_ to do for a living. It's your turn."

Bucky hesitated, taking a deep breath through his nose. He absently rubbed his flesh hand down the side of his face, feeling his nearly week old stubble against his skin. He had gotten into the habit since the weather was getting warmer to only wearing one glove on his metal hand, which he had shoved into his pocket as he debated his answer.

"I was in the army." He said, memories as if they just happened flashing through his mind; him, Steve and the rest of the Howling Commandos fighting HYDRA, arriving at the camp in England, eating boiled food with the rest of the 107th, walking all the way back to the base in Italy after Steve rescued him and the rest of his unit from Red Skull.

"How long?"

"Long enough." Bucky said tersely.

Alba nodded, "You don't sound like you wanted to be in the army."

"I didn't." Bucky muttered, looking towards his right, away from Alba.

She gave him a confused look, "Wait, I'm lost. If you didn't want to be in the army, why were you? It isn't like they drafted you. I don't think anyone in America's been drafted into the army since the 70s."

Bucky's mind froze as a lump began to form in his throat.

If he told her the truth than she'd figure out who he really was, she'd realize everything he'd done and she'd most certainly be scared of him then. The last thing he wanted in that moment was for her to figure out the truth and be scared of him like everyone else he met.

"Oh, I see," Alba started, and Bucky felt all the contents in his stomach disappear. Here it goes,

"Did your parents make you join? You're an army brat or something and they pulled the whole _'I was in the Army so it's your responsibility to serve your country and join as well' _speech and they just backed you into a corner?" she asked.

Bucky didn't respond, leaving a heavy silence between them.

"I take that as a yes. Sorry I asked, it must be a sensitive subject. No wonder you didn't answer the last time I asked you." She muttered, crossing her arms as they made it to the other side of the park.

Alba looked towards her left and cringed, "Oh God," she muttered.

Bucky turned his head in that direction, wondering what she was looking at. At the end of the street at the other end of the park was an Ice Cream Truck, with nearly twenty small children piled around the little window in the side, holding out wadded up bills as the Ice Cream Man tried to hand the children their ice cream and take their money, all while the parents stood off to the side chatting or on their phones.

"I think I would panic if I was him." Alba muttered, shuddering.

"Why aren't they forming a line to make it easier?" Bucky questioned, vaguely remembering ice cream trucks parked along the streets of Brooklyn during the summer, kids queuing along the sidewalk and waiting to buy their own ice cream bar. He even remembered standing in line for one with Steve one summer in 1938; a few months after Steve's mom had died.

"Because this generation of kids is so used to getting what they want instantly that they don't normally take forming lines themselves very well." Alba explained, rolling her eyes. "I mean, look at the parents! They don't even seem to care that they're kids are probably shaving 10 years off that poor Ice Cream Man's life. They're just standing there with no care in the world. When I was little my mom would go up to the Ice Cream Man and make sure my ice cream was nowhere near any cherry flavored anything, because I'm allergic to cherries and she thought artificial flavors were just as bad as the real thing. Some of those kids could have allergies but the parents don't seem to be asking the Ice Cream Man about it, or even caring if they're kid is acting like a brat for some ice cream." She sighed, shaking her head.

"You're a pretty opinionated person." Bucky said, a small chuckle in his voice and they turned and walked in the other direction.

Alba shrugged, "I think working so long in food service has made me very sensitive about how adults and children should treat said people in food service, and I prefer to keep things in order as much as possible. If something is busy and there isn't a line, it frustrates me, and if the no-line-forming crowd is gathered around me I'd probably panic. I need to have some order otherwise things get bad."

"Bad as in…? Do you turn into the Hulk if something isn't in order?" Bucky asked smirking, recalling Steve's explanation months ago about the famed 'Avengers' he was a part of. He remembered Steve explaining who Bruce Banner was, and how he turned into the Hulk. In his six months back in the world, he had heard people use the phrase 'Hulk angry' out in public when they were upset.

Alba grinned, amusement clear on her face, "Something like that, but I promise I don't turn into a giant green monster who can flatten a city. I'm more like a wounded, pitiful puppy." She chuckled.

"I honestly can't imagine you as a wounded puppy." He said amused. The Alba he knew seemed quite bubbly and spunky in his opinion; she called out that trash of an ex-boyfriend without even the slightest of hesitation, she didn't seem afraid to speak her mind to a guy she'd only met three times before today, she brought her neighbors dozens of muffins so they'd have some extra food to eat, and she was brave enough to leave her family behind miles away to go to college and pursue her dream job. Nothing about that gave Bucky the impression that the green eyed girl next to him could turn into anything close to a wounded, pitiful puppy.

"Well, I can't imagine you as an army man. You look more like an artist with your hair in that half-up half-down ponytail you got going on and with the weeks' worth of stubble on your face. All you need now is some paint stained clothing or a fancy camera around your neck and you'd be set." She joked, smiling at him.

Bucky moved his left hand up behind his head, feeling the small knot the hair tie made, tying back the top of his hair while the rest hung loose against his neck.

He shook his head, moving his left hand to rest on the back of his neck, "My friend Steve's more of the artist, actually."

Alba nodded, "Well then, you're a wannabe artist. So Steve's the one who calls you Bucky too?"

Bucky nodded, and Alba crossed her arms once again, pursing her lips as she thought, before stopping in front of the steps of a tall brick building.

Bucky stopped a few steps ahead of her before turning around, wondering why she stopped.

"Oh, sorry," Alba said quickly, suddenly realizing Bucky was waiting for her as she had stopped to look towards the front door of the building. "I was just wondering if I needed anything from my place before I went any farther into the city." She explained, before walking back over to him. "But I think I'm good."

"This is where you live?" Bucky asked, pointing over his shoulder towards the brick building. It was only four stories high, but it was a relatively nice building, with no graffiti along the side and little flower boxes in some of the windows.

Alba nodded, "Third floor, no elevator so grocery shopping is always fun." She said sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

They turned at the corner and walked to the end of the street before stopping at another intersection, and Alba pointed across the street to the entrance of a park. "That's the whole reason I bought the apartment though. It's so close to Meridian Hill Park. It's my favorite park in Washington." She explained, pressing the button for the cross walk.

"I've been there." He said, absently remembering running through it with Steve, going up and down the many stairs around the thirteen-basin Cascading Waterfall in the lower level garden of the park.

Alba nodded, "I don't think you can live in Washington without going there. It's like living in New York City and never going to Coney Island, at least in my opinion anyway." She said, before giving Bucky a look, "Have you been to Coney Island?"

He chuckled, nodding his head, "Yes, I have."

"Good." She grinned, and they crossed the street and walked through the entrance. They walked past the Joan of Arc statue and the James Buchanan Memorial before walking down the steps of the thirteen-basin cascading waterfall.

Alba pulled two pennies out of her purse when they reached the bottom of the steps and shoved the second penny into Bucky's right hand.

He stared at the copper coin confused before looking over at Alba, who had her back facing the fountain.

"Well, you don't expect me to walk past this fountain without making a wish, do you? You should make a wish to." She explained, flipping the penny between her fingers on her right hand, before closing her eyes. She pursed her lips as she thought of her wish before tossing the penny over her left shoulder.

She spun around quickly to watch the coin plop into the water, before looking expectantly at Bucky.

"Stuff like this doesn't work," he started, but Alba shushed him.

"Come on, have a little faith." She said, giving him a warm smile, stepping directly in front of him before taking his right hand and curling his fingers closed around the penny.

"Close your eyes and think of something you want with all your heart and then toss the coin over your left shoulder." She explained, staring up at him.

Bucky held her gaze. He was close enough to see the small specs of mascara on her eyelashes and the scar on her nose looked more pronounced up close. He couldn't tell which he liked more; that she wasn't ashamed of her scars enough to cover them up with makeup when she so obviously donned her eyes with the cosmetics, or that she had moved so close to him on her own without the slightly hint of fear, so close the only thing in the small space between them was her hand closed around his.

"Something I want with all my heart?" he repeated, giving her a skeptical look.

Alba nodded, her smiling growing.

Bucky sighed, which seemed to be the signal for Alba to take a step back. Bucky flexed his right hand once Alba had let go, ignoring the desire to have her keep her hand on top of his, before closing his eyes and letting his mind think of one thing.

'_To be myself again.'_ He thought, tossing the coin over his shoulder.

He opened his eyes, choosing not to turn and watch the coin fall the way Alba had. Instead, he met her eyes and listened as the coin plopped into the water.

Alba was smiling at him, her arms crossed over her chest. "Was that so hard?" she asked.

Bucky rolled his eyes, before walking past her down the final steps and towards the exit of the park. Alba hurried after him, the two of them falling in step as they continued on their walk towards the center of Washington.


	5. Chapter 5

_I don't know if y'all would consider this extremely long chapter a good thing or a bad thing. 17 pages, 7,298 words...it's a lot. I was debating cutting it in half, but decided 'nah.' So...sorry if you didn't want a really long chapter. Anyway, enjoy! Also, possible triggers in this chapter. Not quite sure, but just in case, there's your warning!  
_

* * *

Bucky and Steve walked casually down the streets of Washington, returning home from their morning jog. Both of them had a small layer of sweet sticking to their foreheads and darkening their clothes around their collar and underarms. They had started at six that morning and it was nearly nine, both agreeing that a three hour jog around Washington was nothing for the two super soldiers.

It was Thursday, and the weather was surprisingly warm for the middle of May. Bucky found himself staring up at the sky as he flexed his fingers on his left hand. Was it too hot to get coffee?

Steve glanced over at his friend, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he walked, "With the weather like this, people are gonna start wondering why you wear long sleeves and gloves all the time." He said casually.

Bucky looked towards Steve for a moment before shrugging, "What people? Everyone I know knows why I do, and any stranger off the street can mind their damn business."

Steve shrugged, "I just thought,"

"What?" Bucky interrupted, furrowing his brow.

Steve sighed, moving his left hand up to rub his neck, "Well, you've been spending a lot of time out recently. Mostly on Thursdays and on Tuesday after your session you didn't come home until six o'clock. I just thought you might have made some friends around the city." He explained nervously.

Bucky gave Steve a surprised look. He hadn't thought his friend had caught on how much Bucky spent away from home, considering Steve was away so much on missions.

Bucky turned his eyes away from Steve, "I wouldn't consider them a friend,"

"But you spent the whole day with him." Steve shot back, an amused grin on your face. "It's okay to have friends, Buck."

"They're a girl." Bucky corrected, still avoiding Steve's eyes. "She works at that coffee house that gives out free coffee and she talks to me when I come in, that's it."

Steve gave Bucky a look, trying to catch his eyes but Bucky was a master at avoiding eye contact.

"Okay, I'll drop it, but maybe I'll stop by the coffee shop and meet her too." He said, grinning.

"No." Bucky snapped, turning to look at him, a stern look in his eyes.

Everyone knew who Steve was, and if Steve introduced himself to Alba she'd be one step closer to figuring out who Bucky really was. That was one of the secrets he wanted to keep from her as long as possible.

Steve could tell by Bucky's glare that he was serious, that he didn't want Steve meeting this girl at all. The blonde didn't exactly understand why it was so important for him not to meet her, but didn't want to upset his friend further.

"Alright, I won't." he finally said, turning to look farther up the street towards their apartment.

"You know, it's Thursday." Steve said after a moment. Bucky glanced at him out of the corner of his eye.

"You only had one cup of coffee this morning anyway, and who could pass up a free cup, right?" Steve asked, before nodding towards the coffee house across the street.

Bucky hesitated as he looked towards the store, before Steve started jogging ahead of him. "See you at home!" he called over his shoulder, leaving Bucky behind.

Bucky stared after Steve for a moment, a small smirk on his lips at realizing what he had done. Finally, Bucky glanced down the road, making sure there was no oncoming traffic, before jogging across the four lane street.

He walked into the empty coffee house with a sudden feeling that something was terribly off.

The front of the store was a disaster. Tables were littered with crumbs and napkins and spills from coffees. Chairs were sitting idly in the center of the walkway and the trashcans were overflowing. The floor next to the welcome mat was sticky with dried coffee, and it seemed to trail from the overflowing trashcan.

Bucky slowly walked through the store, listening closely to a strange, muffled sound coming from somewhere deeper inside.

He felt his insides knot. It seemed to be the chaos of the store was thanks to a big rush, but where was the employee, Alba, to clean it all up? And what was the muffled noise he was hearing?

'_HYDRA,'_ Bucky thought automatically, pulling the latch on the swinging door beside the counter.

He had his guard up, looking at the empty case of muffins, and the empty pots of coffee. One was shattered on the floor next to the second register, and Bucky saw little drops of blood mixed against the light orange tiles.

His jaw set before he stepped in front of the archway, his eyes narrowed, ready to attack.

There was no threat waiting for him.

Instead, lying in a ball on the floor at the back of the store was Alba. She was shaking, hugging her arms to her chest and gasping every few seconds, shaking her head against the floor, her visor lying idly behind her head.

Bucky ran the moment he registered it was her, his mind filling with ideas as to who could have hurt her and how he could sneak out of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s watch to track them down himself.

"Alba," Bucky said seriously, kneeling down next to her.

She gasped again, shaking her head, refusing to look up at him.

"Alba," he tried again, slowly, unsurely, reaching his hands out to pull her up. He slid his left hand under her face, gripping her shoulder that was lying against the ground, before gripping the other and pulling her up, ready to see a pool of blood or a battered face.

He pulled her near the wall, leaning her against it, while she didn't seem to register him yet. Bucky was surprised to see she wasn't battered or bruised at all.

Instead, her eyes were red and swollen, tears still streaming down her cheeks. Her lips were chapped and her cheeks flushed a deep scarlet as she continued gasping for breath. Bucky saw she was gripping her hands close to her chest, and saw her right hand had a small stream of blood trailing down it.

"Alba, what happened?" Bucky asked seriously, taking her chin with his right hand and making her finally look at him.

She blinked, looking at him for the first time before she began choking; gasping for breath and her tears began rushing from her eyes faster. She shook her head, "F-Fine," she choked out, pulling her legs up to her chest before resting her head against her knees.

This felt familiar to Bucky, he didn't completely know why. But the memory of someone smaller than him, gasping for breath in front of him, kept playing over in his mind. Only, this person was obviously male, with blonde hair, and after a few gasps he pulled out a small device and placed it in his mouth, pressing a button on top and taking a deep breath of relief.

'_Steve. Asthma attack.'_ Bucky thought instantly, taken aback by the sudden memory. He looked back at Alba, "Do you have asthma?" he asked seriously.

She shook her head again, "F-Fine!" she choked.

"What's wrong?" Bucky asked, his patience wearing thin as he gripped her shoulders again, shoving her slightly to snap her head up, making her look back at him.

"I-I can't, I c-can't," Alba started, her mouth flapping lamely as she blinked back her tears. She shook her head again, before bringing her hands up and pressing her palms against her eyes roughly.

"Can't what?" Bucky asked, grabbing her hands and pulling them back down. The right side of her face was now smeared with blood and tears, but she finally choked out, "B-Breathe!" she gasped.

Bucky stood quickly, running to the front of the store and grabbing a brown paper bag from under the counter before returning to Alba.

He snapped the bag opened before grabbing her left hand and wrapping it around the top of the bag, "Breath into this a few times before breathing on your own again. Go on," He instructed. He watched as Alba, still struggling to breathe, shakily gripped the bag's opening around her mouth.

The bag inflated and deflated rapidly the first ten times before Alba tore the bag away from her face and her breathing continued just as fast. She continued this exercise for a few minutes, Bucky watching her with a seriously look on his face.

She was still crying, her shoulders and hands shaking. Her chest was heaving dramatically no matter how many times she breathed into the bag.

"You shouldn't be at work like this. I'm taking you home." Bucky finally declared, moving to stand up.

Alba quickly dropped the bag and reached over, grabbing Bucky's left hand. He froze, staring down at her.

She shook her head fiercely, "I-I can't l-leave. C-Can't close the s-store. F-Fired," she managed. Just when Bucky thought she couldn't cry any more he was proved wrong, because the moment she uttered the word 'fired' her lower lip trembled and she closed her eyes tight, a sob escaping her lips.

Bucky thought for a moment. He had seen people sobbing like this many times before; all of them on their knees, bleeding out, begging for their lives before Bucky finally silenced their pathetic cries.

He had to admit, Alba looked completely and utterly pathetic, sobbing and struggling for breath for some unknown reason. He didn't understand why this was happening to her, but she had shown him as much kindness as Steve had, and he felt like he wanted to help her.

"I'm calling that blonde girl in then." He finally said, before pulling his hand from her grasp and going to find the store's phone.

He figured they must have the employee's numbers in the phone's directory, and he found the device on the back counter, half charged and showing three missed calls.

He ignored them, before scrolling down the directory and landing on 'Gatlin, Linda.'

He pressed the call button, holding the phone to his ear as he waited. He turned to watch Alba, who had gone back to holding her hands over her eyes and shaking her head, muttering something to herself that he couldn't quite hear.

Linda finally answered. "Hey, Alba, what's going on?" she said in a bubbly voice.

"You need to come into work _now_." Bucky didn't even correct her on who she was speaking to.

"Whoa, wait, who is this?" She said worriedly.

Bucky paused. He wasn't interested in telling this girl his name. "A friend of Alba's. Something is wrong with her and she isn't capable of continuing her shift. She refuses to leave and close early, so you need to come take over."

"Oh my God, you're that scary guy she left with on Tuesday aren't you?" Linda questioned fearfully.

Bucky felt a glare cover his face, and he stared pointedly at the counter. "Come to work now!" he repeated.

"Is she having a panic attack? They only last her like an hour,"

"_Now_!" Bucky nearly roared, and he heard the girl yelp on the other end of the phone.

"I-I have to get my uniform at my dorm," she started frightfully.

"Alba will give you hers; you're roughly the same size. Get here, _now_." Bucky growled, before hanging up the phone and walking back to Alba.

As he grew closer he could hear better what she was muttering.

"You're okay, you're okay, you're okay," She kept muttered, shaking her head as she spoke.

Bucky gently reached over and took her hands again, bringing them down to her sides. Alba refused to look up at him, taking in short breathes through her nose.

"Where are your things? That girl is coming to take over for you and I'm going to take you home." He explained quietly.

"O-Office," She muttered.

Bucky nodded, standing up and staring around the back of the store to find the office.

Across from where the large, industrial sink sat was a door and Bucky walked towards it.

It was an L shaped room. The half closest to the door held a desk, chair, computer, a few messy shelves, and a screen that held security camera footage of the store, while the other half was a long, narrow aisle of storage and coffee mugs.

He saw a purse and a navy sweatshirt hanging off the desk chair and he went to grab it when a note tacked to the shelf above the computer caught his eye.

"_Alba, my wife caught a terrible cold the other day and we don't want to risk her being alone with the baby, so I've decided to stay at home for an extra week, just to be safe. The register is all set up and I'll be by tonight at around 9:30 to count the money. See you next Thursday! – Jack."_

Bucky reread the note a second time, tying to somehow put pieces together to figure out why Alba was acting like this.

He grabbed her bag and jacket before returning to her side, where she had returned to muttering to herself with her head buried in her knees.

'_The blonde girl asked if Alba had a panic attack. Does she have those often?'_ Bucky asked himself, staring at her shaking form.

"_I need to do things one at a time or I get confused and I panic." _

"_If something is busy and there isn't a line, it frustrates me, and if the no-line-forming crowd is gathered around me I'd probably panic. I need to have some order otherwise things get bad,"_

"_I'm more like a wounded, pitiful puppy."_

Her words flashed in his head from their previous times together and he stared at her form, placing some of the puzzle pieces in place.

He had thought it before, that she looked completely pathetic. Thinking of her words from Tuesday, he agreed she did look like a pitiful puppy. So something had happened, something caused her to panic like this, and it was bad.

"You're having a panic attack." Bucky clarified, and Alba stiffened before another choked sob escaped her, "I-I'm f-fine," she cried, shaking her head.

"Stop lying." Bucky insisted, glaring at her, annoyance clear on his face. She was in clear distress but she was denying anything was wrong with her. Why wasn't she asking for help?

He opened up the sweatshirt and placed it on his knee before pulling Alba closer to him. "You need to give the girl your shirt and hat; she doesn't have her uniform. I have your jacket ready if you don't have an undershirt." He explained.

Alba nodded, shakily reaching down for the hem of her shirt. Bucky didn't ask before he reached over and helped her as well, seeing her struggle with gripping the fabric as her fingers shook.

The two of them pulled her white shirt over her head, revealing a white spaghetti strap tank top underneath her.

Bucky placed the shirt and visor aside and helped her slip on the jacket.

Bucky heard the front door opening as he placed Alba's bag on her lap. He turned and saw Linda running to the back of the store, a concerned look on her face before she met eyes with Bucky and froze.

The two held each other's eyes for a moment before Linda looked at Alba, "Are you sure you're okay with him taking you home?"

Alba nodded, her head down and her hands back over her eyes.

Bucky was sorting through her purse, pulling out her keys so he'd have them ready when he reached her apartment.

Once Bucky had them placed in his pocket he wrapped his right arm under Alba's knees while his left slid around her back, heaving her up bridal style and began walking towards the front of the store.

"Wait!" Linda called, running up beside Bucky.

He glared at her, causing her to freeze in her speech. After a moment she shook her head and gave him a serious look, "Take her mind off what's freaking her out, it helps. And if something happens to her I'll be sure to let the police know who the person who took her home was." She said, her voice shaking as she tried to threaten him.

Bucky rolled his eyes before hurrying out of the store, not wanting to waste any more time. He ran as fast as he could down the street, remembering the walk they had taken Tuesday towards her apartment.

Alba snaked her arms around Bucky's neck, burying her face on his left shoulder. He stiffened, hoping she didn't wonder why his shoulder was hard instead of fleshy like it should be.

She didn't seem to show any sign that she noticed as she continued to cry and struggle for breath.

He was grateful her eyes were currently buried in his shirt as he ran through the streets, not bothering to stop at the crosswalks and running in between the oncoming traffic. Cars honked and Bucky only needed to jump on top of one car's hood as he ran, the car stopping roughly as Bucky's feet made a dent in the hood.

He held his ground for a moment but jumped off the car immediately as he saw another speeding up behind the one he was on top of, rear-ending it. Alba jumped at the sound of the cars colliding but didn't look up; instead her hands gripped his hair and she tried to curl into herself more.

He took the steps two at a time when he finally reached her apartment, and adjusted Alba in his arms so he was able to hold her with just his left arm while he fished the keys out of his pocket.

"R-Red key," She muttered into his shoulder, and Bucky grabbed the key painted with red nail polish off the keychain and unlocked the front door, stepping inside.

He took the steps two at a time, staring up at the steps above him until he reached the third floor door.

He stepped onto the floor, looking down the wide hallway of doors.

"T-Ten, the g-green key." She muttered, and Bucky walked to the last door on the right side of the hallway with the number '10' on the door in silver numbers.

As he stopped in front of the door and fingered through the keys with one hand he heard the door behind him open.

He didn't bother looking up but he heard the patter of feet and a few small voices muttering.

"Ali are you okay?" the small voice of a girl asked.

Alba nodded her head against Bucky's shoulder as Bucky finally managed to unlock the door and step inside.

He stared around for a moment, getting an understanding of his surroundings and where he could put Alba down.

Immediately to the left of the front door was a small galley kitchen looking out onto the small living room and dining room area. The only open wall in the small kitchen was painted black with, what looked like, a grocery list written in colorful chalk along the wall.

There was a small table set up under the opening that looked into the kitchen, and the living room held a brown microfiber couch, two small windows behind it, a glass coffee table, a bookcase filled with worn books and a few DVDs and two windows on either side of it, and across from the coffee table and couch was a small flat screen television that sat on top of a black trunk.

To the right of the front door was a wall going straight back through the apartment, with two doors against them.

Bucky didn't waste time exploring what was behind the doors, however; he hurried towards the couch and placed Alba down and pulled out a band aid that was stuffed at the bottom of her purse before tossing the bag aside.

He gripped her forearms, kneeling down in front of her. She was biting hard on her lower lip, her eyes squeezed together tight, shaking her head ever so slightly. He noticed the cut causing the blood wasn't very big and no glass was sticking out of it, so he opened the band aid and covered the cut, wiping away some of the blood with his gloved thumb, before looking back up at her.

As he looked at her, Bucky was reminded of Linda's words from before.

'_Distract her.'_ He thought, and spun towards the bookcase.

He eyed the dozens of different titles before grabbing the one that looked the most worn. He returned to Alba and grabbed her forearms once again, pulled her down to the floor next to him and leaning her against the couch.

He thrust the book into her hands quickly, causing her to finally open her eyes.

"Read." He ordered, staring at her sternly.

"I-I," She choked out, shaking her head.

"Alba." Bucky interrupted, taking her hands and helping her open the book, turning to the first page of dialog.

'_Dialog?'_ he questioned briefly before ignoring his own question and looking at Alba expectantly.

She took in a shaky breath, blinking a few stray tears from her eyes as she stared down at the book in her lap. "A-Act I, Scene I. Athens. The p-palace of T-Theseus."

And just like that, Bucky sat there next to her, listening as she read in her shaky, small voice, the play 'A Midsummer Night's Dream' by William Shakespeare.

Bucky watched as her lips trembled as she read aloud, the tears still pouring from her eyes, the heavy breathing she took every few moments. He moved his eyes from her face to the words on the page, watching as her thumb that held the book open slid down the side as she read down the page, and her thumb on her right hand would do the same as she moved onto the next one.

She was just starting Scene II when her breathing seemed to return to a normal pace and she had stopped stuttering out her words, but her lips still trembled and a veil of unshed tears layered over her eyes.

Alba licked her lips a few times as she read, her throat dry, but she refused to say anything that wasn't written on the page before her.

Bucky stared at her a moment, before pushing himself up to stand, "I'm getting you some water." He let her know, moving to walk towards her small kitchen.

He opened the few cabinets to try and locate the glasses while listening to Alba from behind him.

"Lysander: Be not afraid; she shall not harm thee, Helena.

Demetrius: No, sir, she shall not, though you take her part."

Bucky found the cabinet holding the cups. It was in the small cabinet above the microwave that was placed above the stove. He wondered how Alba reached the cups that were placed so high up, when she was so short herself.

"Helena: O, when she's angry, she is keen and shrewd!  
She was a vixen when she went to school;  
And though she be but little, she is fierce."

Bucky pulled a gallon of water from the fridge and poured her a glass of water. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Alba had stopped reading. Her eyes were fixed on the windows to her left.

He furrowed his brow before taking the cup and walking back over to her. He offered her the glass but she didn't look at it, she just turned her eyes back down to the page.

Her thumb was hovering over the last line she had read, and Bucky placed the cup down on the coffee table before waving his hand in front of Alba's face to get her attention.

"That used to be me." She muttered.

Bucky gave her a confused look, "What used to be you?" he asked.

"That line." She said, tapping her thumb against the page. "We read this play my senior year of high school. We read aloud and students were assigned parts. I was Hermia; and when the girl who played Helena said this line, 'and though she be but little, she is fierce' everyone in the class laughed and said 'that sounds exactly like Alba.' And it did." She chuckled sadly, shaking her head.

"Is that bad?" Bucky asked, not understanding where she was going with this.

Alba shook her head, "It was good. I was brave in high school. I wasn't scared to leave town and go to Washington for college, if someone at my old job would yell at me for something that was out of my control I'd hold my ground and set them straight, I had the upmost confidence that my books would get me to places I could only dream of. Hell, some of the students would tell me the only way they remember the definition of 'fierce' on our vocabulary tests was because they thought of me when they saw that word. Of course, it was always the feelings or emotion definition, _'showing a heartfelt and powerful intensity.' _That was me before this." She explained, waving lamely to herself.

"That's still you." Bucky said seriously, narrowing his eyes.

Alba scoffed shaking her head, "I was never like this before I left home. I don't know what happened; the harsh reality that is the real world, most likely. I don't have full coverage on health insurance and working in a coffee house with a shit ton of student loans I'm trying to pay off while trying to get my book published and pay bills doesn't leave me with too much money to go to a doctor and figure out exactly what's wrong with me, but I either have a panic disorder or an anxiety disorder." She explained.

"You don't know which?" Bucky asked.

Alba shook her head, "They normally last me about an hour, though, the attacks. There's something inside me that just bursts and I just collapse in this ball of self-loathing and fear and I can only think of the negatives." Her lower lip trembled and she quickly bit it, closing her eyes tightly.

"My roommate in college just thought I was really homesick when I'd have these attacks, because I couldn't even form words, I'd just cry. I'd lock myself in our bathroom and cry until I didn't feel so scared anymore. I still do that now, but it's always worse when it happens at work."

"What scared you?" Bucky asked, leaning towards her.

She sighed, "Everything. What my ex said two weeks, about not having a future was egging at me, Edison books rejecting my book, I just found out I won't have enough money to visit my family for the 4th of July this year and I haven't seen them since last Christmas, Jack not showing up for work this morning without any notice, a huge swarm of tourists coming in for free coffee and then yelling at me because it was taking so long to brew the coffee. It just all kind of snapped and exploded in my head and when those rude tourists left I couldn't breathe, then I broke the coffee pot and when I went to pick it up I cut myself and this little voice in my head kept going _you're such an idiot, you can't even pick up some glass without cutting yourself_ and it just kept going on and on, pointing out every flaw and all my fears, until I was crying and desperate for breath and struggling to get to the back of the store where I could hide and try to calm down in case someone came in."

"Those are your fears?" Bucky asked.

Alba nodded, "Yeah, in a way. Not having a future, my books being rejected, not seeing my family, people yelling at me for things that aren't in my control. I have a number of others that I didn't get until after I left for college. Pathetic, isn't it? I mean, look." She placed the book on the floor beside her and unzipped her jacket, shrugging it off.

She lifted up her white tank top and leaned to her left, revealing her bare torso along with the black ink stretched across her ribcage.

Bucky looked at her porcelain skin, staring for a moment before realizing she was showing him her tattoo. He read the words that were etched into her in a curly calligraphy.

_And though she be but little, she is fierce._

Bucky read the words over and over again before Alba finally pulled her shirt back down and smirked darkly.

"I got that on my eighteenth birthday, two months before I left for college. It was my reminder of who I was; who I thought I was, anyway. That I always felt deeply and intensely, that I would take those publishing companies by the balls and prove to them my story was worth it, that I had a fire in me that no one could put out. Now," she waved to herself, "I'm reduced to a sobbing mess because a middle-aged tourist yelled at me and broke the wall that held all my fears back." Her voice cracked and she bit her lip again, closing her eyes as she let her head fall.

Bucky stared at her as she tried to calm herself, taking deep breaths through her nose while squeezing her eyes shut tighter.

He didn't completely know why, but he thought of Steve Monday night, after he had woken up from his nightmare and attacked his friend. Steve had said this over and over, trying to calm him down.

"It's okay." Bucky said, his voice unsure. He had no idea if it was going to be okay. He knew he had it far worse than her, but he also knew that fear was fear. Who was he to say that her fears weren't valid or important? When she was struggling for breath in a ball on the floor, they were certainly important then. But even though he knew her fears were like specs compared to his, he still wasn't sure if it would, in fact, be okay.

He had no idea if she'd get her book published or if she'd be stuck getting people coffee for the rest of her life. He didn't know when she'd see her family next and he couldn't guarantee the next tourist that comes in for coffee will treat her respectfully. But this little phrase, the same one Steve used and the one he heard Alba muttering to herself over and over back at the coffee house, seemed to help in whatever way.

"You'll be okay." Bucky said, feeling surer as he nudged her knee with his right hand, causing her to open her eyes.

Alba looked over at him, fresh tears on her cheeks and he sighed, staring down at her lap before reaching across her and grabbing the book.

He flipped open to the page they left on and stared down at the words, "I think I've read this before."

"Really?" Alba asked, her voice small.

Bucky nodded, "It sounds…vaguely familiar. Maybe I can borrow it," he trailed off, before glancing over at her.

Alba nodded, "It's one of my favorites by Shakespeare. I always thought it was so funny." She said, a small chuckle escaping her.

Bucky stared down at the pages before moving to lean back against the couch. He was tempted to have her keep reading, but thought he should try to get her mind off the play, considering the history she had with it.

He placed it on the floor beside him, staring around the apartment. "Tell me about your book." He said, wanting to get her mind off her fears.

Alba hesitated, staring down at her lap. "You wouldn't like it,"

"Try me." Bucky interrupted, looking towards her.

She paused, before turning her eyes down to her hands, "It's a fantasy, taking place in a world that mirrors our own. You see, our world is normal, but hidden within our world are portals to another one; a world filled with mythical creatures. The story centers around three characters; a centaur named Panos whose struggling to find his own home after his family dies, a fairy named Ellette who is ostracized by the other fairies for being unable to make her own fairy dust, and Cameron whose a human-turned-werewolf trying to figure out if he belongs in the human world with his family and friends or in the mythical world filled with the creatures that won't fear him every full moon and can teach him how to control his cravings for raw meat." She chuckled, a smirk on her face.

"I know authors shouldn't have a favorite, but I think this one is my favorite out of all my others. It's the one I send to publishing companies the most, because if I end up being one of those 'one-book-wonder' authors, I want this one to be my one-book-wonder. I'm the most proud of it, and my old professor loves it. He has his own copy, and he's told me he even reads sections of it to his class, as examples." She giggled, "It's an honor that he thinks so highly of it, and I think I would sell my soul if it meant I could publish this book and share it with the world, because I really am just so proud of it." She explained, her smile growing.

"Do you have a copy?" Bucky asked, looking over at her.

Alba gave him a surprised look, before slowing shaking her head, "You can't read it."

He furrowed his brows, "Why not?"

She chewed on her bottom lip, rubbing the palm of her hand against her eye, drying it of tears, "I just…I don't think you'd like it."

"I just asked you for a copy after hearing what it's about. I think that means I'm interested, at least." He shot back.

Alba continued to chew on her lip, "Are you sure?" she asked.

"Alba." Bucky stated, giving her a serious look, "Let me borrow the book," he paused, "Please."

Alba gulped, before sighing and nodding her head, "I keep hard copies in my room, I'll get it."

Bucky quickly shook his head, placing his hand on her knee to stop her as he stood up.

Alba stared up at him before pointing to the door to the right of the television, "They're on the second shelf on my bookcase." She explained, and Bucky took the few steps towards the door before stepping inside.

Her room was average size, about the same as his own. Only, she had a queen bed placed center against the back wall while Bucky only slept on a twin.

Two large windows were against the wall to the left of the bed, mirroring the windows out in the living room the bookcase was against, and under the windows was an old wooden desk with an Apple desktop and printer sitting on top of it.

Against the wall to the right of the bed was a tall bookcase that matched the one in the living room, and to Bucky's right was a narrow hallway leading to what appeared to be a closet and a door that most likely lead to the bathroom.

He walked towards the bookcase and scanned the shelves, noticing stacks and stacks of paper, large chunks bonded together with a plastic covering protecting them. Three of the six shelves were dedicated to holding the large chunks of paper, and Bucky pulled one off the second shelf.

It was heavy, and looked to be about four hundred pages long. He read the title through the plastic covering.

'_Looking Glass, By Alba J. Donoghue'_

Bucky flipped through the pages; they were printed front and back, single spaced with page and chapter numbers, along with which character point of view that chapter was in at the top of each page.

He took one last look around the room, seeing a few framed photographs on the desk and on her nightstand, before walking out of the room.

Alba held her cup of water in both hands, still sitting on the floor, before looking up at Bucky as he reappeared.

He stared at her a moment, before shifting the paper book in his hands, "Why Looking Glass?" he asked.

Alba smiled, "Like I said, the mythical world mirrors our own, but it's slightly different because there are no humans there. The title comes from something Cameron says in one of his chapters." She hesitated, staring at the book before moving her eyes back up to Bucky, "Are you sure you want to read it?"

He rolled his eyes, a small smirk on his lips, "Yes. I'll return it and the Shakespeare play when I finish them." He said, walking over and picking up the worn copy of the play.

He placed them both on the coffee table before looking towards the clock. It was nearly 12 o'clock, and he was getting hungry.

"Do you have a cell phone?" he asked, looking towards her.

Alba gave him a surprised look, before nodding her head, crawling across the floor and reaching for her purse.

She pulled out the small device and showed it to Bucky.

He reached for it, but she quickly held it behind her back, "What do you need it for?"

He sighed, "I'm not going to leave you alone when you just had a panic attack, but I'm getting hungry. I figured I'd order us some take out or something."

Alba's eyes widened slightly and she slowly shook her head, "You don't have to stay,"

"And you don't have to go through this alone." Bucky shot back, eyes narrowing as he stretched out his right hand a bit farther, "Now hand over the phone."

Alba paused, her eyes darting from his outstretched hand to his piercing blue eyes. They always looked so different to her. When he'd get noticeably upset, like when he told her he had been in the army, they grew dark, stormy even, but currently they were bright, alive in some way that Alba couldn't really understand.

She refused to hand over the phone, though.

She moved to stand up, walking around the coffee table to avoid Bucky's grasp, before hurrying into the kitchen.

Bucky stood as well, following her as she reached for one of the Chinese takeout menus on her fridge.

She didn't meet his eyes, but pulled the menu from underneath the magnet and said, "This place is the best, and they have free delivery. Here," She thrust the menu in Bucky's direction, giving him a small smile, "I recommend the sesame chicken with lo mein and white rice. Their chicken pot stickers are the best, too."

Bucky nodded, taking the menu and looking through his choices.

* * *

Within an hour the two of them were sitting at Alba's table, a variety of Chinese takeout boxes surrounding them as Alba showed Bucky how to use chop sticks. He was struggling to gather his white rice with them, before groaning and grabbing the spoon Alba had given him when she'd fetched them some plates.

Alba laughed, taking a bite of her pot sticker before looking over at all the food.

Bucky had told her before he said what he wanted that he was going to pay for it all, but Alba had insisted that whatever he was getting she could cover ("I mean, you're giving up your afternoon to make sure I don't have another panic attack, the least I can do it buy you lunch!"), but after he listed off the seventh thing he wanted, Alba's face had paled considerably.

"I think you eat more than I did when I was ten, and that's saying something." Alba chuckled, grabbing the receipt off the edge of the table and staring at the final price.

"I cannot believe you spent $86 dollars on Chinese food." Alba chuckled, staring at all the food.

Bucky gave her a look, half his mouth full with orange chicken. "I was hungry." He said, skilled in not spurting food out his mouth before grabbing another napkin.

Alba smirked, shaking her head, "Such a charmer." She leaned back in her chair, grabbing an egg roll.

She stared at it for a moment before dropping it on her plate and looking towards Bucky, he was spooning some chicken fried rice onto his plate.

"Thank you." Alba muttered, feeling a wave of gratitude coming over her.

"For what?" Bucky asked, not meeting her eyes as he continued with his meal.

"For staying with me, making sure I didn't have another attack. That's honestly the first time anyone has ever done that."

Bucky paused, his right hand still gripping his spoon that was halfway dug into his rice, before looking up at her.

She nodded, "That's why I kept saying I was fine. I'm not used to people trying to help me when I'm like that. Linda used to tell me to go to the cooler and count all the cartons of milk we had until I calmed down when I'd get an attack at work, which was about it. I never got an attack at home because I don't feel scared with my family. But here, even though I have friends, none of them have been there when I had an attack and no one's stayed around afterwards to make sure I was okay. Hell, I never even had an attack around my ex-boyfriends, and when I'd ask for them to come over, that I needed them, they'd blow me off." She scoffed, shaking her head, "I sure pick the winners." She muttered.

She met Bucky's eyes and smiled, "So it really means a lot that you cared so much today, that you brought me home and sat with me, took my mind off my fears, and stayed with me afterwards. You're an amazing friend, Bucky. I'm really grateful for all of this."

Bucky felt something warm explode inside him, and his eyes widened at her words. _Him_? _Amazing_? She's grateful for something _he_ did? The only other person who said anything like that to him was Steve, and Bucky was so used to Steve always trying to inflate his ego and make him feel better about himself that he would just roll his eyes at the blonde's words.

With Alba saying this to him, though, it felt different. He felt…_happy_. He dared to feel happy from her words and he felt he really enjoyed the sensation. It was a different feeling of happiness from when he'd remember something new or when he and Steve would joke around about the old days, the days Bucky could remember. This happiness made him feel lighter and warm, warm enough that the skin that was fused to the metal of his left arm could feel the cold of the metal significantly and it sent a chill down his spine.

She thought he was amazing.

How was he supposed to respond? He couldn't do what he did with Steve, roll his eyes and smirk while shaking his head. But he wasn't familiar with genuinely showing someone gratitude for a compliment. From the times Alba had complimented him before, he had smirked or given her a small smile and said 'thanks' but this was different. He felt warm from her words, and he believed a simple 'thanks' wouldn't suffice.

Before he could even open his mouth to try and speak, Alba stretched her arms over her head, closing her eyes tight. "If you don't mind," She said, looking over at him and standing up, "Mrs. Beckett's kids are home sick from school, and I'd like to see if they'll want some of this Wonton soup. If that's okay with you, you did buy it after all." She said, picking up the large plastic container holding the soup.

Bucky mutely shook his head, staring up at Alba as she smiled and nodded, turning on her heel with the container and walking towards the door. "I'll be right back!" she called over her shoulder, leaving Bucky alone with the table full of food and his regret at not speaking when he could have.


	6. Chapter 6

_Short chapter. It's leading into bigger things though, I promise!_

* * *

Alba loved working on Saturdays. They were the only days during the week Jack would schedule two people to work the same shift. Sean had covered the morning shift and at noon Alba and Linda clocked in for the rest of the night while Sean when off to his second job.

Saturdays were normally busy only at certain times. Between 7AM – 10AM there was the morning rush for the people going into work, and then between 2PM – 6PM was the afternoon rush, which normally consisted of parents with small children or teenagers.

It was currently 6:30, and Alba was cleaning off some tables after the afternoon rush while Linda worked on the case.

Alba was humming a tune to herself, absently listening for the door to open so she could greet the customer. She just felt so happy. Ever since Thursday she just had a smile on her face, and she'd hum to keep her spirits up and just felt like nothing could bring her down.

Linda noticed, and kept sending her friend odd looks throughout their shift.

When Alba finally walked back behind the counter and washed off her hands in the small sink hidden next to the muffin case, Linda gave in an asked. "What has you so happy?"

Alba gave the blonde a look before slowly shaking her head, "Nothing…I just…I'm happy!" she said, finishing it off with a small giggle.

Linda quirked an eyebrow before slowly shaking her head, "No, no, no, no!" she said seriously, giving Alba a look.

Alba dried off her hands, confusion on her face. "What?"

"It's because of Mr. Scary-Guy, isn't it?" she asked.

Alba flushed slightly, her mouth hung open. "Of course not!"

"You've been like this since he took you home on Thursday. You came into work yesterday all giddy and shit, and now you're humming and smiling a lot more than normal. Don't tell me you like him, Ali!"

Alba rolled her eyes, "He's my friend. I'm just happy because he's proven enough that he's one of the better friends I've made since I moved here. I'm fine calling him a close friend, but Linda, I hardly know him. I know his nickname, not even his _first_ name, and a really small amount of other things. How can I like him when I barely know him?" she asked.

Linda gave her a deadpanned look, "You have an undeniable thirst for bad-looking dudes. It doesn't matter if you know them or not, if you think they're hot you like them. Remember the last guy you dated? Chuck, was it? You met him on the beach and the moment you saw his sleeve tattoo it was like 'Oh, he's a bad boy, I need to date him' when he was really just a boring accountant."

Alba laughed, shaking her head, "What the hell is 'thirst'? I swear, what kind of slang are teenagers using nowadays? And, okay, yes, I was impressed by Chuck's tattoo, but just because he was an accountant didn't mean I wouldn't have dated him. He was attractive, I approached him, we talked and I found out right then that he was an accountant, and we dated for a year. A year I wish I could get back, but a year nonetheless."

"Whatever, the point is, you're more attracted to the guys who look like the stereotypical bad-boy than the All-America Boy, like Captain America." Linda said happily, pulling out her phone and holding it up for Alba to see. Her screensaver was the widely known Captain America in full uniform, a serious expression on his face as he looked past the camera.

Alba rolled her eyes. When Linda first started working there and let it slip she was a Captain America fan-girl, Alba was certain the only reason the blonde applied for the job was because it was rumored Captain America lived in one of the apartment buildings on this street, and she hoped he'd come in for coffee during her shift.

Linda smiled at her phone for a moment before stuffing it back in her pocket and giving Alba a serious look, "But I'm thinking this new bad-boy in your life is the real deal. I really don't like the vibe I'm getting from him, Alba. Please, trust me."

Alba gave her a small smile before shaking her head, "He's my friend, Linda. I'm not just going to drop him because you're judging a book by its cover. I know him, not much, but I know him, and I know he isn't going to hurt me."

"How can you know that when he won't even tell you his first name?!" she asked, disbelieving.

Alba sighed, shrugging her shoulder, "I just..._know_. Don't question me, I just know he won't hurt me. He's had plenty of opportunities to, after all, but I'm still standing here."

Linda sighed, staring down at the floor, a dejected look on her face. "Just promise me something."

Alba nodded, waiting for Linda to continue.

"When you guys do start dating, and I know you will, you always date these kinds of guys; get him to cut his hair, he looks like a hobo." She groaned a pleading look in her eyes.

Alba laughed, shaking her head slightly.

Linda bounced back from her seriousness in a matter of seconds before walking back towards the case, "Are you off on Monday?" she asked.

Alba nodded, still laughing, "The afternoon, why?" she managed.

Linda grinned, "I'm doing a report on Captain America and the Howling Commandos for my American History class, so I was thinking of going to the Smithsonian to do a little research in the Captain America exhibit. You mentioned a few months ago you hadn't seen it yet. Wanna go with me?" she asked.

Alba thought it over, wondering how much of the trip will be dedicated to Linda taking pictures of herself next to all the ones of Captain America instead of actually gathering research. But, she had been meaning to go for months. She remembered vaguely learning about him and his Howling Commando teammates in high school and brushing over them in college, and it always interested her about the whole 'super soldier' experiment. It all sounded like a fantastic sci-fi fantasy to her.

She nodded her head, "Yeah, I'll go. Who else is gonna be there to remind you that you're actually there for work and not to drool over the great Captain America?"

* * *

Bucky stared at the yellow sticky note peeking out from the back of the Shakespeare play.

After leaving Alba's apartment on Thursday, she had scribbled down her cell phone number for him, if he ever wanted to come by or meet up with her outside of the coffee house.

He was currently using the sticky note as a bookmark for the rare occasion he'd put the book down. He had stayed up all Thursday night and spent most of Friday morning reading Alba's novel, which Bucky was extremely surprised he liked.

He thought, since the main characters seemed to be young adults that it would be a book more suited for a teenage audience but after he finished the first chapter he found himself hooked and read until the very end. He hadn't realized until after he started reading that the book dealt with strong issues of bullying, racism, depression, and abuse; he had thought it would be just a stereotypical fantasy for teens, not something that made him think so seriously about all the topics involved. But, it was Alba who had written it, he doubted she'd ever write a book without getting some type of message across about a serious topic.

When he finished the book, he honestly couldn't understand why the book had been rejected so many times. It was truly amazing, and he understood why Alba considered it one of her favorites that she'd written. Bucky even wondered if Alba would let him read her others books, he was so impressed with the first one.

But now, he was reading the Shakespeare play. He'd spent most of Friday afternoon and evening with Sam and Steve, the two of them insisting that Bucky join them in their 'night out', which consisted of going to a bar with Natasha, a girl Sam was interested in who's name Bucky didn't bother remembering, and Sharon Carter.

Being injected with the Super Soldier serum spiked Bucky's metabolism, which meant even though he could enjoy the taste of alcohol, he and Steve couldn't get drunk, not even a little buzz, no matter how much they drank.

So, after returning home at one in the morning from the bar, Bucky stayed up most of the night to read before unwittingly giving in to sleep and passing out, which Bucky blamed on the Shakespearian vocabulary he was reading. He wasn't used to reading anything like that; it bored him quite a bit. But he understood what they were saying, so it wasn't as if he was lost. If it had been anything else, Bucky would gave tossed the book aside after a few pages, but this play meant something to Alba, and he strangely felt like he wanted to read it for her, to understand her a bit better.

He was lounging on the couch, holding the book a ways above his head, his eyes falling from the words to the sticky note every few moments. He was nearly done with the play, with only five pages left. He could wait to call her. But how would he? He didn't have a cell phone. He'd have to use Steve's. Would Steve ask who he was calling? Would Steve even let him?

Bucky finished the last five pages in less than five minutes and he pulled the sticky note from the back of the book and sat up, looking over at Steve.

He was sitting on the kitchen table with a laptop opened in front of him, his eyebrows furrowed as his two pointer fingers hovered over the keyboard.

Bucky smirked, amused that Steve had an understanding of modern technology, but hadn't grasped typing on a keyboard just yet.

Bucky stood, walking over to the table and looking for the cell phone. Of course Steve wouldn't keep it out, and Bucky knew when he couldn't find the small device that it was tucked away in Steve's pocket. He'd have to ask for it.

"Something wrong, Buck?" Steve asked as Bucky continued to stand there.

Bucky slowly shook his head, before crossing his arms over his chest, the sticky note crumpling under his metal hand, "I need to use the phone."

Steve paused in his attempt at typing to look up at Bucky, "Do you need to call Dr. Carver?" he asked.

Bucky glared at Steve for a moment before minutely shaking his head, "I'm calling a friend."

"The coffee girl." Steve grinned, remembering their conversation from Thursday.

Bucky nodded stiffly, holding out his right hand for the phone.

Steve couldn't wipe the grin off his face as he fished around in his pocket for the small phone. Pulling it out and handing it to Bucky, he couldn't hide the laugh as Bucky hurried across the apartment and into his room.

Bucky closed the door roughly with his foot before stalking over towards the window and leaning against the pane, un-crumpling the sticky note and dialing the number.

He held the phone against his ear hard, his metal hand crumpling and un-crumpling the sticky note as he waited.

"_Hey, you reached Alba Donoghue, leave your message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can!"_ her voice chimed through his head and he bit back a groan, pulling the phone away from his ear and ending the call.

He didn't understand why he felt frustrated that she hadn't answered, but he did, and he hurried from his room, tossing the sticky note on his dresser as he grabbed his sweatshirt and a leather glove. He tossed the cell phone at Steve, a glare on his face, before muttering, "I'm going on a jog."

Steve watched Bucky leave, closing the door so roughly with his left hand that he pulled the door off the top hinge.

Steve groaned, "Bucky!" he called, but he didn't hear him. Steve sighed, standing up and pulling open the tool drawer in the kitchen and grabbed the screw driver, a new door hinge and screws, the drawer filled to the brim with the same things. It was a necessity living with someone who had an extremely strong metal arm and anger problems; doors were pulled off their hinges on a number of occasions.

Steve spent twenty minutes fixing the door, before glancing over at the clock on the wall. It was nearly nine o'clock, and he decided he'd go out and find Bucky, maybe stop at a diner for a late dinner.

Just as Steve went to grab his coat his cell phone started buzzing and the sound of a bell played throughout the quiet apartment.

He grabbed the phone, staring at the number he didn't know before accepting the call and holding the phone to his ear. "Hello?"

"Uh, hi," the voice of a girl rang through his ear. "I had a missed call from this number about thirty minutes ago, I think. I'm just returning the call."

Steve's brow furrowed before a large grinned appeared on his face, "You're Bucky's friend!" he said happily.

"Wait, you know Bucky?" she asked, confused.

Steve nodded, purely ecstatic he was finally talking to her. "Yeah, I'm Steve."

"Yeah, he told me about you." She sounded like she was grinning, like she was almost as happy as he was at talking to one of Bucky's friends. "I'm Alba."

"It's great to finally be talking to you Alba. Can I just say I'm really grateful that you and Bucky are friends." He said sincerely, leaning against the wall.

Alba chuckled, "I'm really grateful Bucky and I are friends too. Could I speak to him though? He did call."

"Oh," Steve said suddenly, straightening up and looking towards the front door, "He actually went for a jog after you missed his call. I was about to go out to look for him. He doesn't have a cell phone so we share mine, you see, so I can't just call him and tell him he should get home soon, I have to go out and find him."

"Oh," Alba said, understandingly, "Well, let him know I called."

"Absolutely. It was a pleasure talking to you Alba." Steve said smiling.

She chuckled, "The feeling is mutual Steve. Actually, could I ask you a small favor?"

Steve's brow furrowed, before nodding his head, "Sure."

He could almost feel the excitement bubbling from her voice, "Well, I just found out I'm off from work this upcoming Friday and I normally go to this bar when I have a Friday off, but it's no fun drinking alone, so would you and Bucky and any other friends of you guys like to come out drinking with me? I'm kind of interested in seeing Bucky drunk." She giggled.

Steve chuckled at the idea, remembering how Bucky would act back before the war, drinking with each other, Bucky drinking enough to stumble back to his place and grin cheekily at any girl they passed on the way while Steve helped him keep his footing. He knew nothing like that would happen again, not with the serum pumping through his veins, but he wasn't going to tell Alba that. Plus, he really was dying to meet her in person.

"I'll see what I can do, but I'm sure Bucky would love to, and so would I."

It almost sounded like Alba clapped to herself at hearing this, "Fantastic! I'll hopefully see you guys on Friday."

"Absolutely. Have a good night Alba, and I'll be sure to give Bucky your message."

"Alright. Goodnight Steve." She said happily before the phone cut off, signaling she had hung up.

Steve couldn't hide his grin. He was finally going to meet her; he was so curious to know the girl who had caught Bucky's attention, and even more curious to see how his friend acted around her. He didn't know it, but he just had a feeling Bucky would be more relaxed around her. And after speaking to her, he figured Bucky would have to be relaxed around her, she sounded too…_happy_ to be so stiff around.

He pushed himself off the wall, grinning down at the phone before remembering something.

Bucky didn't want Steve to meet Alba. He didn't know why, but he was adamant on keeping Steve and Alba away from each other. Which didn't make sense to Steve; he was a very nice person when he meets people, at least when he meets people who aren't trying to kill him, so Bucky couldn't think that Steve would make a bad first impression.

Unless,

"Oh, damn." Steve muttered, suddenly very frustrated at agreeing so willy-nilly to Alba's request.

Of course she didn't know who Bucky really was. Of course she knew who Steven Rogers, AKA Captain America, was.

Bucky didn't want her knowing his best friend was Captain America, because than she'd most likely figure out, if she had been to the Smithsonian before (which she must have, because who lived in Washington and never visited the Smithsonian before?), that Steve's best friend who had died in combat in 1943, James "Bucky" Barnes, was the same Bucky she knew today.

Steve groaned, running a hand down his face. What was he going to do? Bucky would most likely already be mad knowing Steve had talked with Alba on the phone, how would he react to Steve practically agreeing to going out to drinks with her and Bucky on Friday?

No, he couldn't do this. He had to call Alba back and tell her he was busy on Friday, but Bucky would most likely go.

Just as he pulled his phone in front of him, it buzzed, and a familiar name popped up on his screen, along with a text message.

He clicked it open and read the message before a sudden idea came to mind.

_Natasha:_

_Hey Cap, got any plans for Friday?(:_


	7. Chapter 7

_I proof read this twice and if I end up reading it again tomorrow and I see spelling errors after proofing this twice I will scream. Anyway, enjoy!  
_

* * *

Monday came around quickly and at three that afternoon the two baristas walked through the metal detectors at the Smithsonian, Linda with a notebook and pen under her arm along with her own purse and phone, while Alba was equipped with a pamphlet about the exhibit and all her personal belongings tucked away in her purse.

Linda rambled on as the two walked through the large building to the Captain America exhibit, going on and on about how the Captain had broken in to take his uniform months before during the helicarrier attacks.

"Did you know he sometimes comes here to look around in disguise? Yeah! Some kids have gone on and on saying how they saw him and he told them not to say anything until he was gone. What if he's here today? What if I meet him? Oh my God, Alba, I'm gonna meet Captain America!" she squealed, gripping the brunette's arm tightly and jumping up and down in excitement.

Alba rolled her eyes, an amused smirk on her face before pulling her arm back, "Calm down, don't let your hormones and excitement get the best of you. I'm sure Captain America has better things to do than spend his Monday afternoon at an exhibit all about him. Sounds a bit conceited, don't you think?" she asked.

Linda huffed, the two of them stepping on an escalator leading to the lower levels of the building, "Don't go crushing all my dreams there, Ali."

Alba chuckled, turning her eyes down to the pamphlet and skimming over it. It explained that first walking in there's a long hallway of photographs before leading into the main room, taking them on a journey from the beginning of the Captain America process to the aftermath of Captain America's "death."

They walked past a large painted mural of the Captain saluting and the two of them stopped in front of the picture of him before the serum, Alba insisting Linda write down his pre-weight and height as well as his post-weight and height.

Alba stood next to the photograph of pre-serum Steven Rogers and found herself smiling that she was about the same height as him, while Linda was about two inches taller.

They kept walking through the exhibit, Alba pulling her along to the historical parts of it instead of letting the blonde stare at the many photos of the blonde captain.

"Look, it's his motorcycle." Alba said, pointing to the old vehicle, watching the black and white clips of the Captain and his Commandos play on the screen next to it.

Linda's eyes were drawn to the video instead of the plaque with the details of the bike, causing Alba to roll her eyes.

Alba quietly inched her way away from the blonde as she went to explore a few glass cases holding some small artifacts that had meant something to the teammates, as well as weapons they had used during the war.

She leaned over the glass, inspecting every inch of the small devices curiously; there was a gun used by James Montgomery Falsworth, a metal case that held Jacques Dernier's hand rolled cigarettes, and a number of other different memorabilia.

She tapped her finger against her chin as she looked away from the cases and around the large room for her next location to visit. She had read in the pamphlet that there was a media room located somewhere off the main room, playing nonstop film reels of the Captain and Commandos, along with interviews with surviving members from back in the sixties.

She looked back down at her pamphlet, wondering if it had a map, when someone bumped into her roughly and grabbed her arm.

"Hey!" she grunted, only to be met with Linda grinning ear to ear, "Oh my God, remember when I said Captain America broke in to steal his uniform a few months ago?"

Alba rolled her eyes, nodding along, "Yes?"

"Well," Linda drawled out, linking her arm with Alba's and leading her towards the back of the room, "He sent it back with an apology note a few days later, isn't that the cutest? It's back on display with the others and everything!" she said, pointing to the back of the room.

Alba looked past the heads of the crowds and saw seven mannequins standing intimidatingly on a small stage, all wearing the uniforms of each Howling Commando, with Captain America in the middle. There was even a large mural painted behind the mannequins of each member, letting the sightseers know which uniform belonged to whom.

Alba didn't pay too much attention to the mural and instead elbowed her way through the crowd to get a better look at the clothing.

Linda went straight for Captain America's uniform while Alba walked down to the end and looked over Jacques Dernier's uniform, before moving on to Gabe Jones, Timothy Dugan, Steven Rogers, James Barnes, James Falsworth, and Jim Morita.

By the time Alba was done, Linda was waiting near the wall with her arms crossed, staring down her nose at Alba.

Alba gave her a look when she saw the impatient look on her face, "What? I'm not here for just Captain America, I actually want to learn about _all_ of them, which is what you should do too if you want a good grade in your history class."

Linda huffed, flipping open her notebook and pulling out the pen, "Fine, fine. I'll start with," She tapped the pen against her lip as she looked around the room. A large grin appeared on her face, "Captain America's involvement with the USO!" she said before pushing her way through the crowd towards the other side of the room.

Alba smirked, shaking her head in complete amusement at the blonde before pulling open her pamphlet once more.

She finally figured out if she walked towards the area with the information about the scientists who had worked on giving Captain America the serum, Dr. Abraham Erskine and Howard Stark and a number of others, there was a door leading to the media room.

She grinned happily to herself and starting pushing through the crowd when something caught her attention.

"Bucky was really lucky! His best friend was Captain America!" the voice of a little boy rang behind her.

Alba glanced over her shoulder at two boys, no older than ten, walking past her and sharing a pamphlet as well.

"Captain America and Bucky aren't better friends than us, though." One of the boys grinned, causing the other to shove him playfully, "No way, take that back! If the Cap hears you, he might not let us join the Avengers!" he said fearfully.

Alba grinned, happily reminded of her nephews at the two boys' conversation, before she remembered why their conversation caught her attention in the first place.

She looked down at her pamphlet and leafed through the pages before falling on the one with information on each Commando.

Her mouth formed an 'O' and she nodded understandingly.

James Barnes had the same nickname as the Bucky she knew. She hadn't honestly thought it was such a common nickname to have in the first place, but apparently it was if he shared it with the famous James "Bucky" Barnes.

She smirked, looking back down at the pamphlet as she kept walking, not bothering to look up as she walked slowly through the crowd and continued to read about the fallen commando.

"Whoa there, missy!" a voice called, gently gripping her forearm and stopping her in her wake.

Alba stopped, snapping her head up and coming face to face with a glass mural with a face etched into the glass, along with a paragraph of writing. She was shocked to see she knew the face very well, before looking to her right to see who had grabbed her, her face still covered in shock.

An elderly man in a security uniform grinned at her, a pair of sunglasses covering his eyes and a grey mustache hung under his nose, his body small and thin, reminding her of Captain America before the serum.

"You almost walked into this display, ma'am. Better watch where you're going in the future." He said, nodding towards the mural dedicated to the fallen commando.

Alba nodded wordlessly and watched as the security guard walked away before slowly looking back at the mural for James "Bucky" Barnes.

"Whoa,"

* * *

It was six o'clock Friday evening. Steve had just sent Bucky to the grocery store with a long list of a number of different odd things, which meant Steve had bought at most an hour of time.

As Bucky exited the apartment building a black sports car sat parked across the street down the block, and two different people sat inside watching while two more stood near the bus stop, hats and sunglasses on as they looked away.

Once Bucky was a block away the four of them all hurried across the street and towards the apartment building, one of them hold a small leather briefcase.

The woman holding the briefcase rang the buzzer next to the apartment's front door three times before the door buzzed open and one of the other three grabbed it and held it open for the lot of them.

Steve already had his apartment door opened and waving everyone in hurriedly as they climbed the stairs, looking around the empty hall to make sure no one was watching.

"Did he see you?" Steve asked as he closed the door.

Natasha smirked, placing her briefcase down on the coffee table, "Relax cap, we made sure he was a reasonable distance away. How much time do we have?"

"Less than an hour." Steve said, looking amongst the group.

Sharon and Sam were both pulling off their hats and sunglasses and tossing them onto the coffee table, while Clint was adjusting something on his watch, his iconic sunglasses still on his face.

"I didn't know you were coming, Agent Barton." Steve said, walking over and holding out his hand to shake.

Clint shook it, giving Steve a curt nod, "Just got back from New Delhi and Tasha invited me on a night of drinking. I didn't think it would also be an undercover mission as well."

Steve grinned, shaking his head, "Just for me and Nat, don't worry." He turned and looked towards Natasha, "You did bring it, right?"

Natasha rolled her eyes, unlatching the suitcase and flipping it open, "Relax, Steve." She said, pulling out a wig with short, brown hair, "This isn't my first undercover operation."

Steve nodded, and moved to sit in one of the kitchen chairs in the other room while Natasha brought over the wig and a small glass box.

"You really think Sergeant Barnes going to go for this?" Sharon asked, crossing her arms as she watched Natasha pull a small skin colored chip from the box. "He can be very paranoid."

Steve nodded, "I already asked if he was free tonight, he said yes, and I called and told his friend that I was gonna surprise him with this and we'd meet her at her apartment. When Bucky gets here he won't even recognize me, which is exactly what we want. If he can't recognize me, Alba won't, and his cover remains intact."

"Is it really that bad if she knows who Barnes is?" Clint asked.

Steve gave the agent a solemn look, "From what I've gathered, yes. He still feels guilty for everything he's done and he doesn't want Alba knowing, because she'll probably be scared of him."

"He needs to grow a pair." Natasha muttered, as she tapped a small button on the chip.

Steve glared at Natasha and she shrugged innocently, "We all have a past, Steve, and we all need to face it and accept it otherwise it will eat away at us. I have accepted my past, it's awful and terrible but I accept that that's what I did and now I'm trying to make up for it. Barnes needs to learn to accept what he was made to do and man up so he can work to make up for it. He can't be scared some girl will think he's a monster when he was, in fact, a monster."

She leaned in closer to Steve and pressed the chip in place next to jawline near his right ear; a small golden rush of color and pixels swept across his face, changing it completely. His nose grew larger and wider, with an arch in the bridge. His eyes changed from blue to brown and his eyebrows were bushier, and almost connected in a unibrow. A small goatee appeared on his chin and Steve reached up absently to touch it.

Natasha swatted his hand away as she did some last minute touches before grabbing the wig from the table.

"What Barnes fails to understand is that there are demons and monsters inside all of us, but what makes _us_ different," Natasha said, waving her hand around the room to the group of them, "Is we don't hide from it. Sam runs a support group for Army vets, Clint has a dart board in his office at headquarters with Loki's picture in the center,"

Clint smirked, "I never miss either." He muttered, causing a few chuckles from Natasha and Sam.

"Sharon's in the CIA and puts up with all the crap they say to her there since she's a former S.H.I.E.L.D. agent," Natasha rolled her eyes, giving the blonde a small glare, not completely over the agent leaving S.H.I.E.L.D. for the other government agency. Sharon rolled her eyes, ignoring the redhead's obvious distaste for her career choice.

Natasha moved in front of Steve and snugged the wig onto his head, "The whole world knows who you are and you don't hide it like _this_," she motioned to his disguise, "the whole world knowing you killed HYDRA agents in the 40s and aliens in New York and you brought down the hellicarriers in September and you don't let it get to you. While I go on as many missions as I can, making up for all the shit I did in the past. We face our demons every damn day, we meet people, and after uploading all that information everyone in the world knows who we are and we see if that person will still want _us_, the person, and not _us_, the assassin. If they do, fantastic; if they don't, there's billions of other people in the world well worth our time." She explained.

She patted Steve on the shoulder and gave him a serious look, "If Barnes really likes this girl he's better off telling her now and finding out if she'll stick around. It's like pulling off the band aid to a cut you don't know is healed yet. He can either pull it off and find everything is good, or pull it off and see it's still gushing blood."

Steve gave her a look, "I don't think I've heard that one before."

She smirked, "Made it up on the spot, just for you." She flicked his nose playfully before walking back over towards the briefcase.

There was a blonde wig in her hand and she placed it on her head, tucking the red strands under the cap.

Sam walked over to Steve and waved at him to stand up, "Come on, gotta practice your walk."

"My walk?" Steve asked, pushing himself up from the chair.

Sam nodded, a grin on his face, "You aren't Steve Rogers tonight, right? You're just your regular average Joe, and average Joes don't walk so professional."

Steve gawked at him, "I don't walk professional."

Sam gave him a look, before turning to look at Sharon. "Shar, does Steve walk professionally?"

Sharon cringed, staring at Steve as he gave her a pointed look, before slowly nodding her head.

Steve gawked at her with Sam grinned triumphantly.

Sharon gave Steve a look, "I'm sorry, you just have this air about you, you probably got it from being Captain America, I'm sure you didn't walk so Captain-like before the serum, but yeah, you definitely walk with a type of professional air about you."

Sam moved to stand next to Steve and gripped his shoulders, rolling them for him, "Don't stand so straight. You can walk with your shoulders hung or with your back hunched a bit,"

"No, it looks like he's trying to make himself smaller when he does that," Clint interrupted, walking over towards them.

Natasha and Sharon stood in front of the boys, arms crossed and examining them with calculating eyes.

"Maybe I should have brought him the clothes he wore when we were hiding from those HYDRA agents," Natasha mused.

"No." Steve said seriously, giving Natasha a look. "My feet almost fell out of those shoes, and I could go without fake glasses for the rest of my life."

"You're just upset I looked cuter in them." Natasha smirked triumphantly before noticing the doorknob jiggling.

The entire room froze and their attention turned to the front door as Bucky pushed the door open, his left arm holding a large paper bag of groceries and the other holding his keys.

He looked towards the group and stared at their blank faces with confusion before landing on the disgusted face of Steve.

"Why are you wearing that?" he asked finally, nodding at Steve.

The super soldier groaned, Sam and Clint stepped away from him dejectedly, "You can tell it's me?" he asked.

Bucky shrugged, closing the door and walking down the hall towards the kitchen, placing the grocery bag on the counter.

"Well, you live here and you were the only one missing from this little group. Not hard to figure out you and Romanoff are in disguises, although yours is a lot better than Romanoff's. Got another mission?" he asked, boredly unloading the bag.

"Nope." Steve said, grinning. Their friends all proceeded to back away, knowing what was coming and not wanting to be in Bucky's line of fire. They found their way into the living room, leaving Steve and Bucky in the kitchen.

Bucky gave him a look, "Then…you just enjoy dressing up on Friday nights?" he asked, smirking.

Steve shook his head again, "I was invited out; actually all of us were. But the person who invited us can't know who we are, and Natasha and I are dead giveaways since we've been on the news the most and, well, I'm, _you know_," he trailed off, waving his hand in the air dismissively.

Bucky gave him a confused look as he placed a carton of milk on the counter, "Who invited you all out?"

"_Us_." Steve corrected. "You're going too. You're sort of the guest of honor since they said they're curious in seeing you drunk, even though you can't get drunk anymore, but I didn't tell them that." He rambled.

Bucky was still lost, giving Steve a blank look.

Steve grimaced, glancing towards the clock above the stove before turning back to Bucky, "We've expected at Alba's apartment in twenty minutes."

Bucky's eyes widened and the apple he had grabbed from the bag in his left hand exploded under his grip and splattered in every which direction of the kitchen, juice dripping from his fist onto the counter.

Steve didn't flinch, but stared Bucky down.

His eyes were wide and his jaw was set, before his shock turned to a glare and he let out a low growl, "I told you I didn't want you meeting her,"

"She called me." Steve interrupted. "She called after you stormed out the other day. Remember, I told you she just left a message? I actually answered and we talked for a minute. Don't worry; she didn't know _who_ I was, just that I was Steve. She said she wanted to meet me and go out and get some drinks at a bar with the two of us and any other friends of ours. She sounded really excited to meet us all, and I am wearing a disguise." he explained, waving to his obviously costumed-self.

"I understand you're mad but if you punch me in the face the holographic mask Natasha took from S.H.I.E.L.D. will possibly break and then she'll definitely know who I am. Trust me, Buck, this'll work, and after tonight I swear I won't ever agree to join you and Alba on your dates-,"

"We don't go on dates!" Bucky interrupted quickly, his glare never leaving his face.

Steve smirked just slightly before nodding his head, "Right. I swear I won't agree to join you and Alba when the two of you are…enjoying each other's company. Deal?" he asked, holding out his right hand.

Bucky kept his glare, looking between Steve's right hand and his face.

After nearly a five minute stare down Bucky gripped Steve's right hand tightly, giving it one rough shake before pulling his hand away. He pulled the pony tail from around his wrist and tied back the top strands of his hair.

"Let's go." He muttered angrily, turning on his heel and walking towards the door, not bothering to put away the rest of the groceries.

Steve grinned triumphantly while the group all followed Bucky out of the apartment towards Alba's.

* * *

Bucky rang the buzzer for her apartment roughly; his glare had become a permanent fixture on his face since Steve's explanation.

"I'll be right down guys!" Alba's voice rang through the small speaker above the buttons, her voice fuzzy.

"She sounds cute." Natasha muttered from behind Bucky, a small smirk on her face as she glanced at Steve.

Bucky ignored her comment, closing his eyes for a moment to gather his thoughts. It would be a quick night. They'd go to the bar; he'd have a beer or two and then insist going home early. Alba didn't seem like the type to be a heavy drinker so she'd most likely agree, and if the others don't, then Bucky would just leave them and bring Alba back home, before returning home himself.

When he opened his eyes again he saw the door to the stairwell opening at the end of the hallway through the window in the front door and he suddenly felt a knot rise in his throat.

An emotion pumped roughly into his body, an emotion he hadn't remembered feeling in a _very_ long time, an emotion he wasn't prepared to feel tonight, an emotion he had _no_ intention of sharing with Dr. Carver at Tuesday's appointment.

In that moment Bucky Barnes, for the first time in over 70 years, was aroused.

Alba was grinning ear to ear when she stepped through the front door, her eyes looking over each and every face of Bucky's friends while Bucky's eyes were looking her over.

Her hair was down and hung over her shoulders and along her back. She had on a white tank top and a black leather-like sleeveless vest buttoned across her stomach, the tightness of the vest pushing up her chest just slightly, showing off a bit of cleavage. She had on a tight, plain black skirt that stopped just a few inches above her knees and a pair of calf length black boots. The skirt and top highlighted her hourglass figure much more than her usual attire did. And, as always, her eyes and lips were donned in flattering makeup while she refused to cover the two scars on her face with the cosmetics.

Bucky's jaw was set as he looked at her, a master in hiding his emotions on the surface but inside, he was itching to tell someone how…_attractive_ she looked.

'_Not that she doesn't always look attractive; she's just…showing off for some reason tonight. She's highlighting every good quality she has; which is just about everything.' _He thought dismissively, glancing towards Steve who stood directly behind him.

Steve smiled at Bucky before nodding towards Alba, who was staring at Bucky expectantly.

Bucky quickly looked back at her and she gave him an encouraging look, nodding slightly towards his friends. "Are you…going to introduce me?" she asked.

Bucky grunted, before glancing over at them once more.

He waved his right hand indifferently at Alba, "This is Alba Donoghue." He muttered.

Alba smiled at the group and waved at them, before everyone took it upon themselves to do their own introductions.

"Sam Wilson, great to meet you Alba." Sam said, stepping up first and reaching out to shake her hand. Alba eagerly took it, a large grin on her face as she nodded her head.

"Sharon Carter," Sharon went next, grabbing Alba's hand just as she let go of Sam's. Clint stepped up next, his sunglasses still on and shook her hand as well, "Clint Braxton."

Natasha stood back a moment, her arms crossed as she looked Alba over, sizing her up.

Alba gave the blonde a smile, fidgeting slightly under Natasha's intense gaze before she gave in and nodded her head at Alba, "Natasha Rushman. How long have you known Bucky?" she asked, glancing between the two.

Bucky glared at Natasha while Alba shrugged, "A month and a half, I think. How long have you known him?"

Natasha smirked, glancing at him, "Oh, we go way back."

"I'm Steve!" Steve quickly jumped in when Bucky's glare grew darker, stepping in front of Natasha and extending his right hand. "Steve Richards, great to finally meet you in person Alba." He grinned.

Alba paused for a moment, staring at Steve before a look of realization hit her and she shook her head slightly, a large grin on her face as she shook his hand, "Oh, _you're_ Steve! It's fantastic to finally meet you. Funny, I had this completely different picture of how you looked in my head." She chuckled.

Steve hesitated, his stomach knotting while Bucky's whole body seemed to stiffen.

"Really?" Steve asked.

Alba nodded, "I didn't take you for a goatee guy." She smiled, pointed to her own chin as she nodded towards him.

Steve's mouth formed an 'O' and he let out a relieved laugh. "Y-Yeah," he started, glancing towards Bucky, giving him a small smile, "I get that a lot."

"Well," Sam said after a moment, breaking the tension, "Let's go get hammered."


	8. Chapter 8

_I'd like to take a moment to reply to an anon I got for the last chapter. To the anon, Watson, I have not read the marvel comics. The extent of my knowledge of comic book Bucky is the information I've read about his background and life online and the few clippings from comics of him I see on my tumblr dashboard. Any Marvel-related fic I post will be based off the** Marvel Cinematic Universe**, with some light hints at the comics (aka, Bucky's sister Rebecca. I don't recall her being mentioned at all in the movies, but I did read about her online from Bucky's biography in the comics). I'm sorry that Bucky doesn't act completely like this in the comics, but like I said, this is a movie!verse fic, and how I think he'd be after the events of The Winter Soldier. But I'm very glad you still like the story. _

_and also, thank you to everyone who reviews. I know I haven't gotten around to replying to you all and thanking you so I'm doing it here. It's such a joy to see your feedback and to see all of you loving Alba so much. It means the world to me. I hope you enjoy this chapter and it answers some questions the last chapter might have brought up. Enjoy! P.S. Alba's university mentioned is completely fictional.  
_

* * *

Alba led the way to a bar three blocks away from her apartment. There was a small room off the entrance where they checked IDs, and once inside there was a large room containing the bar, some tables and chairs and a pool table, and then a room to the right of the entrance that held a stage and a live band playing.

A number of people were going from the bar to the room with live music, and the group could see the room was filled with people dancing while the room with the bar only held about thirty people drinking and playing pool.

The music carried into the bar and it was slightly hard to hear, Alba had to raise her voice slightly to call the bartender over to their side of the bar.

"Seven vodka shots to start us off, Jerry." Alba told him grinning. He chuckled, turning around and grabbing seven shot glasses off the counter, "Good to see you with some new friends. That guy you brought in last time was the biggest lightweight I've ever seen."

Alba chuckled, taking a seat at the bar while Bucky, Steve and Natasha all took seats at the empty bar stools as well.

Sharon walked to a small menu holster on the other side of Natasha to study the drinks, Clint stood alongside the bar next to Natasha's seat, and Sam was leaning against the bar near Steve.

Bucky was glancing at Alba through the corner of his eyes and she looked towards him, a small smirk on her lips, "What?"

He shrugged, "I didn't know you had friends old enough to drink."

Alba gawked at him, "If you think Linda is my only other friend you are sadly mistaken, sir. I have others; they just have busy schedules so they rarely have time to go drinking with me. Kyle was an exception last month because he actually had a Saturday off. He's a friend from college, twenty-two, and never gotten plastered before so he was, in fact, a lightweight." She chuckled.

"Which college did you go to?" Steve asked, sitting on the other side of Alba. The bartender placed the seven shots on the counter and everyone proceeded to take one. Steve and Bucky held off on taking their shot as they others all downed theirs in one go. Steve held onto the small glass while Bucky stared into the clear glass boredly.

Alba took a moment after she drank the shot, closing her eyes tightly and letting the warmth of the liquid fill her before she reopened her eyes and looked towards Steve, "Wrenning University about thirty minutes east of here. Did you go to college?" She asked curiously as the bartender, Jerry, walked back over to them.

Alba ordered a lime daiquiri as Steve and Bucky both shared a subtle look. When Alba looked back over at Steve, he shrugged, "Just a year of art school a few years ago."

Alba grinned, "Bucky mentioned you were the artist. What type of art?"

"I mostly worked in illustrations and as a sketch artist. I draw occasionally now, but not as much as I used to." He explained, finally downing his shot.

Alba nodded her head, her lips pursed together as Jerry placed her daiquiri in front of her before walking over towards Natasha and Sharon, the two of them placing their own drink orders.

"What are you doing now?" She asked, taking her first sip of the drink. Bucky looked towards Steve warily. He had no idea what cover story Steve would use, as he hadn't spoken a word to his friend since leaving their apartment. Perhaps he should have…

"I do security work mostly. Nothing too glamorous, but it pays the bills." He chuckled, before asking for a bottle of beer from Jerry. The bartender reached into a hidden fridge under the counter and produced the beer, before handing one off to Sam as well, while Clint received a glass of whiskey and Bucky was still staring into his shot.

Alba looked towards Sam and gave him a smile, "And how do you know Bucky?"

Sam nodded towards Steve, "We share a mutual friend. We didn't like each other too well at first," Bucky glared at Sam from behind Alba, but he ignored it and grinned, "But we grew on each other."

Alba nodded, smiling, "I'm glad. I don't wanna throw Bucky under the bus or anything, but he gave me the impression Steve was his only friend. It's good to see the impression was false."

Behind Sam, Clint snorted which caught Alba's attention, despite the loud music carrying over into the bar area.

A small smirk graced her lips and she picked up her drink, sliding off the bar stool to stand, "It appeared I've yet to make much small talk with the other half of this lovely group. If you boys will excuse me," she started, before taking the few steps around Steve and Sam to Sharon, Natasha and Clint.

Bucky went to stand, wanting to follow her and make sure Natasha didn't say anything, but Steve quickly jumped into Alba's empty seat and grabbed Bucky's left arm, keeping him down in his seat.

Bucky gave Steve a pointed look and Steve shook his head, "Don't follow her around like a babysitter, Buck. Sharon, Clint and Natasha know not to blab, and I filled them in on what Alba knew about you on the way to her apartment so they don't mess anything up that you've already told her."

Bucky gave Steve a confused look, "How do you know what I've told her?"

Steve gave him a bashful smile, "Well, I had to call her again and tell her that tonight would be a surprise. During that conversation I just asked what she knew about you."

Bucky rolled his eyes, finally picking up his shot and taking a swing, while Sam took Steve's now empty seat and grinned, "That a boy!"

On the other side of them, Alba stood next to Clint while Sharon and Natasha sat away from the bar, all of them holding their drinks and talking a little louder than normal to hear each other in the small circle.

"Did you meet Bucky through Steve as well, Clint?" Alba asked curiously.

The archer nodded, taking a swing of his whiskey, "We're not close, though. I just tagged along for the promise of alcohol." He explained a small smirk on his lips as he held up his glass a little higher.

Alba nodded her head understandingly before looking towards Natasha and Sharon.

Before the blonde could open her mouth, the fake-blonde, Natasha, cut in, pointing her thumb at Sharon, "Well, she's Steve's girlfriend so she's his friend by default."

Sharon's cheeks turned a slight shade of pink and she glared at Natasha, before looking at Alba with an exasperated look on her face, "I'm not his girlfriend. We're friends, Natasha just likes to play matchmaker."

"But you like him?" Alba asked curiously. Sharon gawked at her, before shaking her head in disbelief, "Why does every conversation involving Steve go back to this?"

Natasha smirked before turning to Alba, "I met your friend Bucky on the battlefield in Iran." She said, her smirk going slightly dark.

Alba's eyes widened a bit, and Clint glanced at Natasha out of the corner of his eye, as did Sharon.

Natasha nodded at Alba's look, taking a drink of her glass before continuing, "It was a…confusing battle, to say the least. In all the disarray, he fired his weapon and it shot me by accident, bullet went right through me." She pointed to a spot to the left of her belly button, "So long bikinis." She smirked.

Alba hadn't realized her mouth was hanging open slightly until Clint reached over and pushed her chin up with the back of his hand.

She blinked for a moment before frowning, "I'm…I'm sorry that happened to you. Bucky must have felt horrible about it."

Natasha chuckled, taking another swing of her vodka, "Yeah. He feels horrible about a lot of things."

Alba's lips turned down in a frown and she stared down at her glass.

Sharon stared at her a moment before standing up and linking her arm through Alba's, giving the brunette a smile when they met eyes, "I noticed there was a dart board over in the back corner. Why not we go play a few rounds?"

Alba nodded, a small smile on her lips before Clint jumped in, "Whoa, a dart board? Count me in. Loser has to buy the winner a shot." He grinned cockily. Natasha elbowed his side as she stood up, giving him a pointed look, "Then let's make this interesting. Three against one, the three of us verses you."

Clint's grin remained on his face as the four of them walked past Bucky, Steve and Sam towards the back of the bar near the pool table, "You can make it as interesting as you want, Tasha, you'll still be buying me a shot."

* * *

Clint had indeed won the round of darts and the three girls split the second round of shots, which they chipped in for the entire group and not just Clint.

They were there for nearly an hour before Clint and Sharon had wandered into the side of the bar the band was playing, wanting to check out their music.

Sam had coax Bucky off his bar stool with a challenge of pool, going on about how Bucky's skill at the game had rusted in the last seventy years (Alba was thankfully not within earshot to hear him), and Natasha had joined in on their game, challenging the winner.

Alba had returned to her seat at the bar and Steve had moved to sit next to her, the two of them quietly watching their friends play pool.

Steve glanced at Alba curiously, before taking a swing of his beer. "Are you enjoying yourself?" he asked.

Alba paused for a moment, not hearing Steve at first before snapping her head in his direction and nodding her head, a small smile on her lips and a dreamy look in her eyes. Steve had been keeping track of everyone's drinks so far, and he knew Alba had had two shots of vodka and two daiquiris. She looked happily buzzed, but nowhere near hammered, which was good for Steve.

"I'm just really happy I've met you guys. I'm normally not so interested in learning about people's lives, but Bucky's such a closed book, my curiosity has gotten the best of me. Sorry if I pried at all tonight with my questions."

Steve shook his head hurriedly, "Not at all. I understand, Bucky can be a bit…reserved. But he likes you, trust me. He doesn't tell you much because he likes you. He doesn't wanna scare you away with, uh, his baggage." Steve managed, not too sure how to word Bucky's past.

Alba nodded, "Yeah, I've figured that out, but I also figured he'll tell me whatever he's keeping from me some day. I just have to be patient."

Steve smiled, nodding his head. He looked towards the pool table and saw Bucky was absently tugging down the left sleeve of his jacket, watching with keen eyes as Sam bent over the table to line up a shot.

Bucky's eyes glanced up towards Alba and Steve for a moment before back at Sam just as his pool cue collided with the ball.

It shot off the side of the table and towards the right corner pocket, just barely missing the red striped ball.

Sam swore, shooting up with a scowl on his face while a pleased smirk graced Bucky's lips, and he walked towards the side of the table the little white ball was sitting waiting and began calculating his shot.

Steve looked back over towards Alba and she was taking another sip of her drink, leaning back against the bar as she smiled at Bucky, a pleased look on her face that Sam had missed the shot.

"Do you like him?" Steve found himself asking, before a small blush crept up to his cheeks.

Alba's eyes widened slightly and Steve quickly shook his head, sitting a bit straighter, "I mean, in a friend way. I'm not asking if you want to date him or anything, I mean, oh God," he muttered, completely embarrassed as he ran his hand down his holographic face, forgetting about the mask for a moment.

The rushed contact caused the pixels in the mask to glow gold for a moment before readjusting and returning to normal.

Alba missed the falter in the mask, though, as she had turned away from Steve and was taking a long swing of her lime daiquiri.

She took in a breath of air through her nose before looking back over at Steve, who had an apologetic look on his face.

"I'm sorry if I embarrassed you or anything,"

She shook her head, a small smile on her lips, "No, it's fine. I just…that caught me off guard, especially since I had a friend ask me the same thing last week."

"Really?" Steve asked curiously.

Alba nodded, "I'll be honest with you, Steve, because I feel like you can keep a secret." She leaned in a bit closer to him and gave him a look, "As much as I'd like to deny it because I know it would be complicated, I honestly believe I'm starting to."

Steve's eyes widened a bit before a large smile stretched up to his eyes.

Alba held up a hand at his look, her eyes narrowing, "But I could blame this confession on the alcohol. Besides," She straightened up, letting out a sigh before taking another drink, "With everything I've learned along the way since I met Bucky, I doubt he'd be interested in an _ordinary_ girl like me. I think he'd need someone who could…keep up with him."

"But you can keep up with – wait," Steve paused, his eyebrows furrowing at her statement before giving her a look.

She had a small smile on her face as she stared down into her drink, not meeting his eyes. "The Smithsonian is quite the informative place, don't you agree Captain?" she muttered so quietly Steve had to strain his ears to hear her.

His eyes widened and he went to say something when Alba held a finger to her lips, finally looking towards Steve. She gave him a wink before lowering her finger, "I'm not an idiot. I've figured it out, but I'd like to see if he ever trusts me enough to tell me himself. At first I thought he was just some long lost descendent of your dear friend or something, but I pieced all the little information Bucky's told me about his life enough to figure out the truth."

She held out her right hand in front of Steve, "Promise you won't tell him I know. I don't want him to think I was snooping, and I don't want him to think I'm scared of him now and avoid me. Promise me?" she asked.

Steve hesitated, before firmly gripping her hand and shaking, "I'm actually relieved to know that you know."

"Really?" Alba smirked, taking her hand back as she took another sip of her drink.

Steve nodded, "Because I can tell Bucky likes you, you can interpret that in whatever way and I'm sure it'll be true, and he needs someone that isn't me or his therapist that he can talk to. Now I hope he comes clean with you soon, because I really do think he needs that talk."

Alba grinned happily, bouncing a bit in her seat, "I'm glad you think so. Bucky's done so much to help me; I'd like to repay the favor."

Steve beamed, "I'm sure you will."

* * *

It was nearing ten o'clock. Sharon was giggling continuous which prompted Steve to say goodnight to everyone, insisting he bring Sharon home for the night. Natasha, Bucky, Clint and Sam all shared a smirk when Steve said this and he glared at them.

He shook Alba's hand before leaving, giving her a small smile. He glanced at Bucky, who was hiding the fact he was watching them, before leaning in close to whisper into Alba's ear, "An ordinary girl is just what he needs, by the way."

Alba chuckled, a small smile on her lips before Steve took Sharon and led her out of the bar.

Bucky moved to take a seat next to Alba at the bar as everyone continued on in their own little games of pool and darts.

He glanced at Alba as the bartender placed down her fifth daiquiri. Her cheeks were a constant shade of pink and Bucky had a feeling he'd be escorting the brunette home soon as well.

"What did he say to you?" He asked after a moment, eager to know what Steve had whispered to her.

Alba shook her head, taking a sip of her drink, "N-Nothing." She hiccupped, shaking her head of the fuzziness she felt, "Just that he was glad he met me."

Bucky gave her a look, not truly believing it but had a feeling she'd dodge the truth no matter what, even in a drunken state.

"Did you have fun tonight?" She asked, propping her elbow onto the bar and resting her head in her hand.

Bucky shrugged, "It was fine."

Alba huffed, rolling her eyes, "That's it? I got all dolled up and took you guys to one of my favorite bars and all you can say is it was fine?"

Bucky smirked, giving her a look, "Did you actually use the phrase 'dolled up'?" he asked, amusement in his voice.

Alba nodded proudly, a grin on her face, "Yeah! That phrase will never be old to me, it's completely useful. I mean, do you ever see me in miniskirts or with my breasts hanging out this much?" she asked, waving to her outfit. "No." she answered the question before Bucky could.

Bucky chuckled, taking another look down at her outfit. It was certainly provocative, and it stirred something in him that he honestly hoped wouldn't be stirred. His eyes wandered to her chest and he stared for a moment, remembering when she showed him her tattoo, remembering how soft and delicate her ivory skin looked. He felt the urge to run his hands up and down every inch of her, to know if it was as soft as it seemed, but he quickly snapped his mind away from his wandering thoughts and downed some of his beer to clear his thoughts, despite knowing alcohol had no effect on him.

Alba hadn't noticed his stare and instead was absently running her pointer finger along the top of the bar, tracing out the lines in the dark wood.

Bucky wanted to fill the silence, and the only thought he could come up with to talk about didn't seem like appropriate bar conversation. But he needed to say something before his mind wandered far enough that Alba would be able to _see_ just what he was thinking.

"You should keep a journal of your fears." He slipped out, glancing over at her.

Alba's ears perked up at his voice and she looked at him. "What?"

"Your fears." He said, shrugging his shoulders, "Keep a journal about them, so they don't weigh you down like they do, and you don't end up having attacks like before."

Alba straightened in her seat, a small smile on her lips, "Oh really?"

Bucky nodded, "I'd prefer not to walk into the coffee house and find you crying on the floor again. It wasn't pleasant. Keep a journal, and if you have another attack, try calling me, since I know you have the number of the phone Steve and I share, and I'll come over so you aren't alone for that. I didn't get a chance to tell you that last week, so I'm telling you now." He explained seriously, leaning a little closer to her so she'd hear him better.

Alba smiled, and it seemed she sobered up for a moment as she stared at him before glancing down into her drink, "You don't have to take on the responsibility of being burdened with my problems."

He shook his head, "I'm not being burdened with anything. I want to make sure you're okay."

"Why?" Alba asked curiously, looking back up at him.

He hesitated, before glancing down into his beer, "Because you don't look at me as some monster. Since the very start you haven't been afraid of me, so I want to make sure the things you _are_ afraid of don't cause you as much pain as they have."

Alba grew quiet, and for a moment Bucky would have thought she hadn't heard him if it wasn't for the fact he could see her staring at him from the corner of his eye.

He risked a glance her in direction and saw she was frowning.

He gave her a confused look, "What's wrong?"

She shook her head slowly, her eyebrows furrowed together, "What you said, I just," She paused, straightening up in her seat before reaching over and grabbing Bucky's left hand. He stiffened as she squeezed it reassuringly, and gave him a serious look.

"You're a good person, Bucky. If people are willing to judge you because you look a little scary, then fuck them." She said the last part a bit loudly and a few patrons in the bar glanced their way. "You can be a bit intimidating and you could probably strike fear into the Greek God Hades, but you are a good person. You can be funny and a bit overly serious and sarcastic and caring and brave and stop me before I say something embarrassing that I'll regret tomorrow," she said, causing Bucky to laugh and nod his head, which made Alba smile.

She took her hand back and spun around on her bar stool, leaning back against the bar. "What I'm getting at is you should stop caring if people on the street look at you with fear or whatever, and only care if the people you care about look at you like that. So, you know, shed the metaphorical armor and masks and shit and just be yourself because we all love you." She said knowingly.

Bucky shook his head in disbelief, an amused smirk still on his face before he glanced over at her when she used the word 'love.' He knew the way she meant it, and he shouldn't think too much into it, but just hearing her use that word about him, while including herself in the sentiment, it made him think he lost function in his legs for a moment.

After a minute he pulled out his wallet, "I think it's time we called it a night. You look sufficiently hammered."

Alba groaned, letting her head fall back, "No," She whined out, "I can't go home yet. I've yet to meet a man turned on enough by my dolled up appearance to come home with me."

Bucky smirked as he stood up, giving her a look, "I thought tonight was about meeting my friends, not finding a one night stand."

"Who said anything about it turning into a one night stand? Maybe I'll get a relationship out of it." She winked with a cocky grin on her face.

Bucky hesitated, not at all liking the idea of Alba being in a relationship. He gave her a serious look, "I'm gonna walk you home, come on. Let's pay for the drinks." He said, waving his hand at the bartender to get his attention.

Alba smirked playfully before leaning forward onto her knees, using her arms to push her cleavage out a bit more, "You offering to come home with me, then, Buck?" she asked, popping the B in his name.

He gave her a deadpanned look, knowing fully well she'd never talk like this sober.

"You're definitely hammered. Come on, go say goodnight to the rest of the group, I'll pay for the drinks." He said, waving at her stand and to walk towards the pool table where Sam, Clint and Natasha resided.

Alba sighed sadly, jumping off the bar stool in a huff, "Come on, don't tell me it isn't tempting, Bucky." She grumbled as she walked past him.

He chuckled, shaking his head as the bartender finally noticed him and came walking over. "Oh, believe me, it is. I'd just prefer you to be completely sober if I ever let it happen." He muttered, but Alba was already too far away to hear him.


	9. Chapter 9

_Alba is related to a bit more marvel characters than previously thought. I wonder who can guess who it is before the reveal at the end of the chapter. (; Enjoy!_

* * *

Alba groaned as she woke up the next morning. She had a headache and she hadn't removed her makeup when she went to bed so her eyes felt goopy and the makeup was smeared around her face and all over her pillow.

She groaned again, rolling over in bed as she ran a hand down her face. She remembered a majority of what happened the previous night, the ending blurring together a bit, but she remembered spilling the secret of her knowledge of Bucky's true history to Steve, aka, Captain America.

She snorted, still surprised that she had actually had shots with Captain America, the guy her nieces and nephews idolized along with the rest of his Avenger pals. But she didn't care too much about him being Captain America; she didn't care too much about Steve's personal life at all.

She cared about Bucky.

What happened to Bucky? She rolled over again, squinting her eyes closed while she tried to think of the night before. She remembered him leading her out of the bar, towards her apartment. She remembered giggling, something she rarely did unless her flirty persona she got when she was drunk took over.

Her eyes shot open and she pulled the covers up, staring down at her body in the dark.

She sighed happily, relieved to see she was still fully dressed from the night before, and there was no unconscious Bucky lying next to her, or any sign he'd been in her room at all.

She rolled towards the edge of her bed near the nightstand, looking up at her alarm clock. It was beeping incessantly at this point, and she quickly rammed her hand hard against the snooze button. Oh, she had been so stupid to go out drinking when she had a morning shift at work the next day, but the temptation to see Bucky drunk, which she didn't, was so hard to resist.

The blue digital numbers on the clock read 4:35AM and blinked to signal that she was very late.

She fumbled her hand up towards a small lamp next to the clock and flicked it on, hissing at the bright light before pushing herself into a sitting position. She looked back down at the nightstand and was surprised to see that Bucky had been in her room the night before, because who else could have left it?

Sitting in the center of the nightstand was a tall bottle of water and four aspirins, begging for Alba to take them.

She found herself grinning from ear to ear at the gesture, grabbing the pills and the bottle to rid herself of her headache, before running to the bathroom to get ready for work.

With less than thirty minutes to get there, she skipped her breakfast entirely; positive she'd vomit it up anyway, and dressed in a pair of blue jeans, the standard white t-shirt with the store's logo on the back, and her slip resistant shoes.

She stuffed her visor and apron in her purse while she struggling with tying up her knotted long hair. She left herself a mental note to pay a visit to a hair salon at some point that week; she doubted she'd be able to handle the summer sun with her long hair.

She sprinted down the misty and empty streets of Washington D.C., the street lights lighting her way before skidding to a stop in front of the coffee house, pulling out her set of keys and unlocking the front door. She stepped inside, locking it once more before hurrying to the back to switch on the store lights.

As she walked around the counter and towards the back of the store, however, the lights were already on in the back, and the sound of muffin trays clattering could be heard.

Alba walked into the small area of the store that held the large ovens and racks to cool the muffins to see an average sized man with thin blond hair, wearing an orange polo and khaki pants, pulling muffins out of the cooking trays and onto a pre-lined rack for the front display.

"Jack, you're back." Alba said, relief filling her voice. She had completely forgotten Jack had said he'd be back that week, but when he failed to show up the previous Thursday, _again_, she had her doubts he'd be back at all.

The blond turned to look at her and grinned, "Alba, so glad to see you!"

She nodded her head, a small smile on her lips as she walked into the office to place her purse and slip on her apron and visor.

"I wanted to talk to you about something before we opened." Jack called into the room.

Alba suddenly felt numb. Was this about when she had her panic attack? When Bucky took her home and called in Linda to work? Was she going to get in trouble for this? _Fired_?

A knot rose to her throat and she slowly walked towards the doorway, leaning against it as she stared at her boss with slight fear in her eyes.

He gave her a sympathetic look, pulling off the latex gloves he wore before walking over to her.

He stood his ground in front of her, not noticing her paled complexion or the fact she was using the doorway to hold herself up.

"I am so sorry for what happened last week." He said, his voice dripping with remorse.

Alba straightened slightly, her eyes wide. "You're apologizing?" She asked.

He nodded, "I felt so guilty when I showed up that night and Linda was there. She told me what happened. Thank God your friend found you and not some stranger. You did the right thing going home that day, if you had had another attack who knows what would have happened to the store."

Alba felt the need to roll her eyes. He might be apologizing, but he was more concerned about what happened to the store than her health.

'_Figures.'_ She thought, pushing the need to roll her eyes again aside as the strength returned to her legs and she stood a bit straighter, returning to tying her apron back.

"My wife and I were talking about it, and we want to make it up to you. Anything you want, just ask and we'll grant, as long as this little fiasco doesn't get back to my brother." He explained seriously.

Alba scoffed out loud, grabbing her visor from her purse and strapping it on around her head. "The one big thing I want you can't give me, and the second one is too huge to ask of you."

"Just name it!" Jack insisted, an eager grin on his face, his eyes crinkling a bit as he grinned.

Alba frowned at him, shrugging her shoulders, "The second one is a plane ticket to Chicago to see me family for the Fourth of July, which would be wonderful, but tickets are nearly $300, and I couldn't ask for that." She explained, before side stepping her way past him and towards the racks of muffins, picking two up to bring them to the front.

"I thought you _were_ going? You took July first to the seventh off for your vacation." Jack called, following her.

Alba nodded, "I did, but I did that last month and I just found out two weeks ago that I won't be able to afford my rent, groceries, my bills, and what I owe in college loans for the month of June if I buy a plane ticket. I've been thinking of a second job but I doubt I'd be able to handle the stress of that." She explained, a small shudder running through her as she thought of juggling a second job.

He stared after her a moment, before following her up to the front, "When was the last time you saw them?"

Alba shrugged, placing the first tray of muffins in the case before reaching under the case to flip on the florescent lights. "Not last Christmas, but the Christmas before it. Almost a year and a half since I saw them in person."

Jack's lips bent down in a frown, his eyebrows knitted together as he thought.

Alba looked over at him and sighed, reaching over and placing her hand on his shoulder to get his attention. He looked up at her and she gave him a small, forced smile, "Don't worry about it, my family understands. You don't have to repay me or bribe me into not telling, okay? If I haven't done it yet I won't now."

Jack sighed, slowly nodding his head before the two of them returned to the back of the store to get the rest of the muffins.

* * *

Bucky fiddled absently with the worn leather on his chair. He was sitting in Dr. Carver's office, thirty minutes into their session. They had just gone over his sleeping patterns and Bucky had briefly mentioned going out to a bar with Steve and a few friends (pointedly leaving out Alba and the new feelings he had gotten from seeing her that night).

He wanted to ask something, but he feared Dr. Carver would believe he was talking about himself when he wasn't and try to prescribe him medication. He had wanted to ask Carver since his last session but the fear of being forced medication was too strong. He was so adamant on not receiving any drugs, but he had to do this. He couldn't let another week go by when he could figure out a way to help.

"How do you diagnose someone who might have a panic or an anxiety disorder?" he asked, finally looking up at Dr. Carver.

The man stopped scribbling on his clipboard and looked up at Bucky, a curious look on his face. "Is there something you want to share with me, James?" he asked, his voice gentle and low, already thinking Bucky might be suffering from the disorder.

Bucky quickly shook his head, leaning forward on his knees, "My friend might have it. She…she can't afford to see a doctor. It's bad, the attacks she has; they last her over an hour from what I saw. She needs help, but she can't get it. I want to ask you just to tell me what she has so I can let her know and maybe their are pills for it she can by at the store without a prescription or something. I just want to help her." He explained seriously.

Dr. Carver quirked his eyebrow slightly, straightening up in his seat before sighing, "James, I cannot diagnose anyone unless I have a one-on-one session with them and preform a series of tests to determine-"

"It starts with a voice in her head." Bucky interrupted, not interested in hearing the doctor's ways of diagnosing his patients. "Something slightly bad happens, like she breaks something or someone yells at her for something that isn't in her control or she's reminded or something that she's scared of, and this nagging voice starts constantly pointing it out to her, reminding her, then it nags her about everything she fears. She can't get it to stop so she ends up shaking, her breathing becomes haggard and rapid and she can't stop crying. She's reduced to this ball of sniveling and gasps, which is completely unlike Alba it's frightening, in a way. Looking back on it," Bucky paused, furrowing his eyebrows as he thought.

He remembered seeing her in a ball, her constant sobs and gasps, her trembling fingers. It sent a shudder through him and he was determined to never see her like that again.

"I just don't want it happening again. She starts trembling and she can't recover on her own for over an hour, so she's stuck in this ball with this voice still going off in her head. I know the voice is still going because she kept saying that she was okay, she was comforting herself but why would she do that if no one was bothering her? It was that damned voice nagging at her. She's stuck like that for who knows how long with something making her feel worse and I need you to tell me what's wrong with her and what she can do or take to fix this, doc. Because I'm not leaving this office until you do." He said sternly, narrowing his eyes slightly.

Dr. Carver stared at him, his face unreadable as he stared at Bucky.

His eyes glanced down briefly at his clipboard before he let out another sigh. "To me, it sounds as if your friend Alba suffers from a sever Panic disorder, which is a type of Anxiety disorder. It could be inherited from her family, or she could have some abnormalities in the brain, or she suffers from substance abuse but I don't believe you'd let yourself spend so much time with someone who does, and lastly it could be because of copious amounts of stress in her life. I can't exactly determine which of these causes her disorder unless I spoke to her in person,"

"She's stressed." Bucky interrupted, nodding his head at the doctor. "It has to be that she's stressed."

Dr. Carver nodded, "That is your opinion but I can't agree unless I met her. Now, if she wanted to seek treatment for her panic disorder I would suggest, but not until after she spoke to a doctor about what exactly is wrong and what causes the problem, intense amounts of psychotherapy, cognitive behavioral therapy, medication such as Paxil, Zoloft, Xanax, or Klonopin, which she'd need prescriptions for, and a number of different relaxation exercises. But even with treatment it's hard to say the disorder will go away. For some people it remains dormant for years and then years without a relapse they suffer from the attacks once more. It's something that is very hard to go away, and she'll have to spend the rest of her life working on."

Bucky shook his head, his eyebrows furrowed, "She said it didn't develop until after she left for college. If it just showed up like that, it could go away for good. She spent 18 years of her life without it."

Dr. Carver shrugged, his lips pursed, "It could have been dormant, James, like I said, I can't determine anything unless I met her and Director Fury would never allow you to bring a civilian here."

"What if you paid a house call?" Bucky asked hopefully.

Dr. Carver sighed, shaking his head slightly, "James, I'm _sorry_. I cannot help your friend. My purpose is to help you and other S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. I could recommend another therapist but as you said, she cannot afford to see one. I'm truly sorry."

Bucky gritted his teeth together, his eyes dark before leaning back in his seat, feeling his anger rise within him. Everything Dr. Carver had told him that could be used to help Alba, he couldn't give. He couldn't just go and rob a drug store for those drugs, not with S.H.I.E.L.D. watching him, and not without Alba knowing which ones she was supposed to take, because who knew how dangerous it was taking pills she wasn't prescribed? He wasn't a therapist so he couldn't do these 'tests' on her to figure out how the disorder developed and which medication needed to be prescribed to her.

He felt utterly useless.

* * *

It was nearing the last week of June and Bucky was sitting inside the coffee house, enjoying his last free coffee while Alba was stocking the napkin dispensers across the room from him.

They talked as often as they could, but now that Jack back working at night, the air grew tense when he'd walk to the front to make sure everything was okay and find Alba sitting at the table Bucky was seated at, chatting away and not working.

Jack was currently in the back, and from where Alba stood she could see when he was coming or not, so she continued to speak to Bucky over her shoulder, but not much.

Bucky didn't want to tell Alba about his experience with Dr. Carver the week before, about how he talked to him about helping Alba, partly because he didn't want her knowing he was seeing a therapist, and partly because he wasn't any step closer to helping her with her disorder.

He did have something he wanted to tell her though. Steve had suggested it, and although it sounded like a date, Bucky refused to call it that.

"Do you have plans for the fourth of July?" Bucky asked, glancing over at Alba.

She looked at him over her shoulder and shook her head, "I was gonna go home for the holiday weekend but you know that that isn't happening." She sighed, frowning, "So, no, I don't. Why do you ask?"

Bucky cringed, suddenly wishing he hadn't asked. He refused to let it deter him though. "It' Steve's birthday on the 4th of July so I was going to be spending it with him and a few of his…our friends that night, but he told me he was actually going to go with Sharon to Chesapeake Beach to watch the fireworks alone, and I thought, so you wouldn't be alone that night, if you'd like to go," Bucky paused, clearing his throat as it suddenly became dry, "Go watch the fireworks somewhere with me?" he asked, averting his eyes quickly from hers and staring down at his half empty coffee cup.

Alba was quiet for a moment and Bucky didn't want to risk glancing up at her. He realized that happened a lot with him; he'd say something slightly risky to her and not meet her eyes and she'd stay silent for a moment before answering, the silence always killing him. He couldn't help it though, he always had this gut feeling her eyes would reveal something he didn't want to see from his question and it would break him. He didn't know what he feared he'd see in her eyes, but he knew he didn't want to see it.

After a moment Alba walked over to him, pulling the chair across from him out and taking a seat. He looked up at her, masking any and all emotion that might have been playing on his face and saw she was smiling at him.

"I'd love to, Bucky. On one condition though." She said, holding up her pointer finger.

Bucky nodded his head a bit too quickly, his face almost mirroring an eager puppy, _almost_.

Alba beamed, leaning against the table, "I might not being going home to see my family but I will end up calling them at some point that night. It's probable they'll want to know or talk to the guy who's keeping me company that night, so they might force my phone into your hands and want to speak to you. With this being the case, it's about time I educated you in all things that is my family."

Bucky quirked an eyebrow, slightly confused. That was it?

She chuckled at his expression, nodding her head to his unasked question, "Trust me, it's a lot. You won't thank me for it, but at the same time you will because if you speak to them but get one of their names wrong, they will make you regret it. It's one of the Donoghue curses, people getting us mixed up, which is something we absolutely loathe. Come to my place after I get off. I'll 'introduce' you to them then."

* * *

Bucky stood outside the front of the shop until 8:30 when Alba finally walked out of the store, her visor and apron stuffed into her bag and a grateful look on her face.

They walked in silence to her apartment, Alba briefly explaining that she wouldn't tell him anything until he had pictures in front of him, because she thought it easier to learn who they were if he actually had a face to go with the name.

They walked up the stairs to her apartment and Alba excused herself into her bedroom to change while Bucky made himself comfortable getting himself a glass of water and taking a seat on her couch, staring around her small apartment as he waited.

It still looked the same as it had the last time he was inside it, and Bucky saw the Shakespeare play he had borrowed back in its place on her shelf.

After a few minutes Alba returned from her bedroom, wearing grey sweatpants and an oversized black t-shirt with her hair hanging down around her, along with two thick photo albums in her arms.

She plopped down on the couch next to Bucky and placed one photo album aside and began opening the first one.

"Okay, so," Alba started, pointing to the man and woman in wedding attire on the first page, the picture seemed to have been taken around the seventies. The man had shoulder length brown hair while the woman had fluffy looking red hair. "These are my parents, Kevin and Melissa Donoghue. They both have Irish backgrounds but my dad's parents actually moved to America from Ireland when my dad was about two. They lived in Tennessee for a few years, moved to Oxford when my dad was around fifteen, which was when he met mom, they got married when my dad was twenty and my mom was nineteen, which is why they look so young in this picture, and stayed in Oxford to raise their future seven kids." She explained.

Bucky studied the picture intently, noticing little things about her parents that Alba shared. She received her brown hair from her father, but it looked like both her parents shared green eyes. Her appearance was more dominantly her mothers, though, including the shortness in height. He also noted both of them seemed to have the brightest of smiles in their wedding photo, and before Bucky could study more, Alba flipped the page.

"Dad works in sales management for a company that sells outdoor equipment and mom was a wedding planner before she decided to retire three years ago, now she's just a stay-at-home grandma and watches all my nieces and nephews while my siblings and their husbands and wives are at work." She explained before pointing her finger down at a picture of a woman with light brown hair, her hair cut in a pixie and a giant grin on her face as she held up a medium sized fish.

Standing next to the woman was a man nearly twice her size, in height and weight, his head bald and a number of tattoos covering his arms, but an equally sized grin on his face, and standing in front of them were two children, two little boys, the older looking one with blond hair and the other brown, both holding their own smaller versions of the fish the woman held, with a river running behind them.

"That's my oldest sister, Cassidy, with her husband, Will, and their two sons, Damon who is ten, and Tate who is eight. They live near the Illinois River and the boys love to go fishing there, so it's sort of their family trip every month or so. Cassidy works in retail and Will is a tattoo artist; he actually did my tattoo before I left for college." She said proudly, a grin on her face.

Bucky stared over the picture, noticing that Cassidy seemed to be just as short as Alba.

Alba pointed to the picture on the next page at a man who shared the same face as Cassidy, only he had a barely noticeable mustache and thick sideburns, his hair also brown.

Next to him stood a short haired blonde woman that was just an inch or two shorter than him with three children standing around their feet while the man held another one against his hip. All of the children, three boys and one girl, looked to be about the same age, and they were all wearing Christmas colors, standing in front of a Christmas tree.

"That's my brother Aiden, the younger twin of Cassidy, and his wife Susan. They had to go through some medical treatments to conceive after they got married and ended up with quadruplets, who are five years old now. This one," Alba pointed to the boy in the middle of the three children standing. He had brown hair and green eyes like Alba, and his front two teeth were missing. "He's the oldest, his name is Miles. Next to him, is the second oldest," Alba pointed to the boy to Miles' left, who was identical in appearance to Miles. "His name is Avery. Third oldest is the little princess of their family," Alba chuckled, pointing to the one child that wasn't as identical as the others.

The girl had the same face as her brothers, but instead of brown hair, hers was nearly the same matching red as the bright sweater she wore, identical to Alba's mother's hair from the first page. She had a timid smile on her lips, and her eyes with a deep brown color, matching her mother's eyes.

"Her name is Caroline and don't let this picture fool you, she is the princess of that house. She has my brother wrapped around her finger, it's cute but it's a bit scary the hoops he's willing to jump for his daughter." She chuckled a bit, before finally pointing to the last little boy, being held in his father's arms.

"And finally we have Bryce. He's the cutest little thing, shortest of them all and he is obsessed with Captain America because since Bryce is the smallest of the quadruplets and he was the only one who suffered some complications after he was born, my brother decided to show him pictures of Captain America before he became the Captain, you know? When he was all tiny?" Alba asked, glancing over at Bucky.

Bucky stiffened at the mention of Steve, but slowly nodded his head, avoiding her eyes as he stared at the small boy.

Alba nodded before looking back down at her nephew, "Well, it sort of made Bryce think he'd get bigger than his brothers one day. Of course, my brother left out the whole super serum thing, and let Bryce think Captain America got so huge on his own with some crazy growth spurt or something, but it's nice that he's got his own hero now, but I think Captain America is every little kid's hero, him or any of the other Avengers." She explained.

Feeling the tension from Bucky at the mention of Captain America, and knowing he still had no idea she knew, she moved on to the next picture on the next page, of a woman with shoulder length red hair and black rimmed glasses, with a girl about the age of eight holding her hand, the two of them standing in front of a giraffe at the zoo.

"That's my sister Maggie; I think I've mentioned her before." Alba said, pausing for a moment to remember if she had indeed ever spoken of her. "Yeah, I think I did. Anyway, that's her. She's thirty-four, and that's her daughter, Beth. Maggie's husband is a doctor in the army and he's overseas right now, but I think I have a picture of him in the other photo album. Anyway, Maggie sent me this a few months ago when Beth had her eighth birthday at the zoo." Alba explained, pointing to the little red headed girl next to her mother, a giant grin on her face with a thing of cotton candy being held in her other hand.

"Maggie's a huge perfectionist, and don't tell her I said this, but she loves sticking her nose in all our siblings business, including mine. She's completely against tattoos and smoking and drinking, so she hated it when Cassidy married Will, a tattoo artist with over fifty tattoos, and she loathed my sister Victoria's ex-husband, but I'll get to that later. She's basically the biggest stick in the mud there ever was, and because I don't want to hear her gripe, I've gone nearly seven years without her finding out about my tattoo." She chuckled. "She also thinks she's better than most of us, because she's one of the few Donoghue children who actually did something with her college degree, becoming a veterinarian. Wait until I send her a copy of the newspaper that reads my book is a New York Times Best Seller. It hasn't happened yet, but when it does, she better watch out!" Alba said seriously, causing Bucky to chuckle.

Alba huffed for a moment before pointing to the next page at another woman with long brown hair held up in a ponytail. She looked a bit tired, with bags under her eyes, and standing on either side of her was a boy who looked to be about ten and a girl about the age of six.

"That's my sister Victoria, she's thirty-one. My dad's parents moved back to Tennessee a few years after my parents married and Victoria wanted to go college there, so she went to live with them, met her ex-husband Bill and when she was twenty she got pregnant with her son, which prompted their really quick marriage. Bill wasn't the greatest of guys, and after Victoria finished college they moved to this small town a few miles away from my grandparents and my sister started working as a waitress while Bill worked at a Tupper wear factory the next town over to support their little family. Bill drank a lot and him and Victoria fought a lot, but it didn't stop them from having a little girl four years later." Alba sighed, leaning back against the couch.

"Their kids are so great too; it makes me so mad about what happened. Seven years ago Bill said he was going to go out to get some scratchers, saying how it was their lucky night and everything was gonna change and winning this was gonna fix all their problems and he left to get some before my sister went to work the night shift at the diner she worked at and when she got home that night she found her kids all alone asleep on the couch, and Bill's stuff cleared out. He never came back. Victoria's had enough contact with him though to get divorce papers signed, and now she works morning shifts at the factory, she's home to get her kids off the bus and feed them dinner, then she goes to work nights at the diner. It makes me wish she'd move back to Oxford so mom and dad could help them, and she wouldn't have to work her ass off to make ends meet, but she has her reasons for staying."

Bucky stared down at the small family of three, at the brown haired woman with a small smile and bags under her eyes.

His eyes trailed to the two children. The boy had shaggy golden brown hair, blue eyes, and had a baby face, a mischievous smirk on his lips while the little girl had shoulder length brown hair and an array of sparkling bows clipping back her bangs, with a Hello Kitty purse clutched in her hands, a toothless grin plastered on her face.

"What are their names?" Bucky asked, tapping the picture.

Alba looked back down at her niece and nephew and grinned, "Harley and Katelyn. Harley is mostly the reason my sister wants to stay in Rose Hill. Apparently the Christmas before last Harley met Tony Stark one night while Victoria was working." Alba grinned ear to ear as she said this, looking eager at Bucky. "Harley helped Tony with some stuff, since Harley is a wiz with engineering; he's the brightest eleven year old I've ever met, I swear. Anyway, Harley goes on and on about this story, how he had to watch over Tony's suit and he said something about helping fight bad guys, but I doubt Tony Stark is reckless enough to let a ten year old get into harms why, so I think he's just exaggerating that part. Anyway, a few weeks later Harley comes home from school and goes into their garage, which had been used as Harley's little work shop since he was six, and sees it filled to the brim with new tools, computers, a classic sports car completely restored, the works! It was amazing, my sister _cried_ when Harley showed her. And because of that she doesn't want to move, because she doubts Harley would even want to try packing that stuff up, and he always goes on saying 'What if Tony comes to see some of the stuff I've built and we're not living here anymore? We need to stay!' isn't that so cute, he calls him Tony! He used to just call him Iron-Man but after meeting him and becoming such great friends he's on a first name basis with him." Alba laughed, completely amused.

Bucky smirked, staring down at the picture of the mischievous eleven year old. To think a kid could become so close to Tony Stark in such a short time, enough to be repaid like that. Of course, Bucky had yet to meet Tony Stark so he didn't know the man enough to make any assumptions, but held on to a few memories of Tony Stark's father, Howard, on the brief occasions he met the man.

Once Alba had finished her laugh she flipped the page, "He acts like the man of the house now, completely under the impression he needs to protect Victoria and Katelyn. He even tried to shoot Tony Stark with a potato gun when he thought he was an intruder while he was watching Katelyn that night when they met. He's so protective of Katelyn too, it's adorable. Victoria and they are driving up to Oxford for the fourth of July, since they haven't been able to come home for the last two Christmases, so everyone is really excited to see them."

Alba sighed, pausing for a moment before pointing down to the next picture. It was a man with shaggy reddish brown hair and a week's worth of stubble on his face. He had a medium build, most of his strength seemed to be in his arms, and he wore a white collar shirt and jeans, a large grin on his face as he stood along the boardwalk of a beach. There was a man standing close next to him, leaning against the boardwalks railing with sunglasses covering his eyes and his hair a short, buzz cut blond, wearing swim trunks and a t-shirt.

Alba pointed to the reddish brown haired man, and after Bucky studied the picture noticed Alba and him similar features.

"That's my brother Parker and his fiancé Ryan. They're in the Long Beach in this picture on vacation. Parker's twenty-nine and he and I are the closest, best friends even. I was the first one in the family he came out to, which wasn't that big of deal after it happened, because no one really cared." Alba chuckled, before nudging Bucky's with her shoulder and giving him a serious look.

"Are you okay with people who like the same sex?" she asked.

Bucky shrugged, a bit amused by how cute he thought she looked when she put on a serious face, "Doesn't bother me."

Alba grinned, nodding her head and returned her attention to the photo. "He's the assistant manager to this really nice Italian bistro in Chicago and his fiancé Ryan works on the newspaper. They're wedding is scheduled for next May, which I'm really excited about. They were going to have it in New York, since it's legal there, but since Illinois legalized it they're going crazy rearranging their plans so they can actually keep it in the state now, they're so excited." She chuckled.

Next, Alba pointed to the next picture which was of a girl with a croppy, short haircut, her hair red and her eyes deep green. Next to her was a tall man, extremely muscular with shoulder length brown hair, tanned skin and a few tattoos sticking out from under his t-shirt sleeves. Standing around them were two children no older than five and in the red head's arms was a toddler sucking her thumb.

"And, lastly, my sister Rowan, which I think is hilarious because that name means 'Red haired.' I mean, my parents had two red heads before her but they pick her to give her the ironic name. Anyway, she's twenty-seven, and that's her husband, Nico, and their three kids, Gabriel, who is five," She pointed to the tallest child standing up on his own, who had dark brown hair like his father and bright green eyes, his skin lighter than his father's but darker than his mother's. "Ana, who is four," her finger slid across the page to the little girl next to Gabriel, with shoulder length brown hair and brown eyes. "And lastly, little Julia curled up in her mama's arms. She just turned two in January." She said happily, tapping the picture where the toddler was curled up, her thumb in her mouth and her hair a lighter shade than her siblings, her eyes a bright green color to match Rowan's.

"Do you think you could remember all that?" Alba asked, closing the photo album shut.

Bucky nodded his head, reaching over with his gloved hand to take the book. He skimmed through some pictures Alba hadn't shown him, stopping on one of a girl who shared the same face as Alba, only her cheeks were pudgy, along with the rest of her body. She looked to be about nine years old in the picture, and wore a multicolored swim suit with cake smeared around her face.

Alba yelped when Bucky landed on that picture and went to snatch the book away but Bucky held it farther to his left, holding his right arm up as a barricade to block Alba as he studied the picture some more.

"Is this you?" he asked, ignoring Alba's constantly pushing against his arm to take back the album.

"That's why I closed the book!" she grumbled, before jumping to stand up and walk over to where he held the book.

Bucky was quick, though, slamming the book closed and tucking it behind his back with his left hand while his right shot out and grabbed her left wrist, pulling her back down onto the couch, incidentally causing her to fall into his lap.

He froze, suddenly forgetting what he was doing when Alba maneuvered herself around his lap, nearly straddling him as she reached behind him for the book.

He was snapped back from his shock quick enough to give her a mischievous smirk and pull the book back, holding it back once more.

Alba huffed, glaring into his eyes from her position on top of him, her arms crossed.

He kept his smirk, completely amused by the silent game of keep away they were playing.

Alba's pointer finger on her right hand tapped against her arm, her lips pursed and her eyes narrowed as she stared him down, trying to figure out a way to get the book back.

Without meaning to, her eyes glanced down at his lips and she wondered something completely stupid. Had Bucky kissed anyone?

'_What an idiotic question, of course he has._' Alba thought, internally rolling her eyes. _'But maybe he hasn't kissed anyone since the forties. Did HYDRA let him go on dates? No, of course not. Dammit, why did I Google those leaked S.H.I.E.L.D. files and read the one about Bucky? Now I'm just left with more questions that I doubt he'd ever answer. But if he hasn't kissed anyone in over seventy years, would a kiss shock him enough to let me get my album back? Or would he just throw me off his lap before I got the chance? No, he'd never throw me.'_

She cocked her head a bit to the right, continuing her intense stare. _'Oh, who am I kidding, I just want to kiss him. God, did he really have to pull me on to his lap? He's completely evil.'_ She thought exasperatingly.

After another moment of thought, Alba pushed the whole kissing idea away, knowing it was a bad idea.

Finally, Bucky sighed and wrapped his arm around Alba's waist, twisting the two of them around so Alba fell back against the couch and Bucky was able to stand up, the book in his hands as he strolled around the coffee table and towards the kitchen table.

"So this _is_ you. You look…" he paused, trying to think of the word. "Cute." He finally said, giving her a smirk over his shoulder.

Alba flushed, pushing herself off the couch and hurrying over to him, "Give those back, Bucky!"

He held the album above his head, staring up at the next photo. Alba looked to be about thirteen there, with a younger, stubble-less Parker next to her, both in green camp t-shirts. Alba had braces and her hair was cut to just above her shoulders.

"No, not the Camp Likati photos! Bucky!" Alba hissed, jumping up to reach the album.

Bucky let out a small laugh before finally shutting the book and letting it fall into Alba's hands. She clutched it to her chest, before glaring at Bucky.

He smirked, stuffing his hands into his jeans pocket, "You look the same from when you were younger."

She rolled her eyes, her glare still on her face, "You are banned from looking at my photo albums ever again. Any picture of me before the age of sixteen is forbidden for your eyes." She said matter-of-factly before strolling over to the couch to grab the second album.

"Well, I just saw two of them." He said smartly, rolling around on his heel to watch her walk away.

Alba huffed, taking the two photo albums and returning them to her room, before closing the door quickly behind her and crossing her arms at him.

The amused smirk hadn't left Bucky's face yet, and the two continued their stare-down.

"They weren't that bad." He said finally, leaning against the kitchen table.

Alba huffed, "Says you. My chubby phase and my three years of braces is something I don't like friends seeing, at least not without my consent." She explained.

Bucky's smirked falter for a moment before he finally nodded his head, "You're right, I'm sorry I looked without asking, but it was a photo album, and you didn't stop me from taking it from you." He retorted.

Alba sighed, rolling her eyes, "Fine, you win. Just…don't go mentioning it. It's embarrassing."

Bucky nodded, "Deal."

Alba glanced at the clock on the wall and sighed, "It's almost 10:30, and I have a morning shift tomorrow. You should probably go now."

Bucky looked over at the clock as well and frown. He didn't want to leave just yet; he wanted to talk more about Alba and her past, her family. But he didn't want to be selfish and keep her awake, causing her to most likely be exhausted come her morning shift, so he nodded his head, walking towards the door.

Alba joined him, holding the door open for him and leaning against doorway as he stepped into the hall.

"So, what plans did you have planned for the Fourth of July?" she asked, crossing her arms.

Bucky shrugged, "Go see the fireworks somewhere, I guess. Unless you don't want to, then maybe watch them on TV. It doesn't really matter to me." He explained.

Alba nodded, and without warning, walked out into the hall and gave him a hug. She avoided wrapping her arms around his neck, not wanting to trigger some self-defense move in case he saw this as some threat, and instead snaked her arms in between his and his torso and wrapped them around his back. She rested her head against his chest, squeezing him tightly.

Bucky froze, staring down at her form with wide eyes, his arms held a little ways away from her.

His hands were floating a few inches away from her back, shaking slightly as he internally debating on returning the gesture. After a few unsure moments Bucky hesitantly wrapped his arms around her shoulders and stared down at the top of her head, her being a bit too short for him to comfortably rest his chin on top of her.

Alba smiled as he returned the hug, and as quickly as he did, she pulled away, looking up at with him with a large, thankful, smile. "Thank you for inviting me, Bucky. It would have been really lonely without my family, but knowing I'll be spending the holiday with you, I feel a lot better."

Bucky clenched his teeth, struck silent for the second time that month by her kind words to him. He couldn't think of a response, and he didn't want to risk embarrassing himself, so he gave her a quick nod before turning and walking down the hall towards the stairs, leaving an amused Alba behind him.


	10. Chapter 10

_I knowledge of certain places used in this chapter is nonexistent and I used mostly Google and Google maps to help me out. Sorry if anything is inaccurate. Enjoy!_

* * *

Alba woke up the first day of her vacation to three missed calls and a banging on her front door.

She groaned, rolling over in her bed and looking at the alarm clock. It read 8:17AM and she wanted to know who was on the other side of her door so she could give them a piece of her mind.

"I never get to sleep in, do I?" she muttered grumpily, kicking the covers off her and standing up. She wore only an extra-large grey t-shirt and her underwear, so she hastily searched her hamper for the basketball shorts she had worn the night before.

"Just a second!" Alba called angrily as the banging continued. Finally finding the shorts in the small hallway leading to the private entrance to her bathroom, she jumped into the shorts, stumbling slightly against the door before pulling it open and walking towards the front door.

Considering her hair was already naturally straight, her hair wasn't so extremely unmanageable in the morning, but it didn't stop her from running her hands through it to make sure she looked just slightly presentable as she looked through the peephole on the door.

"What the hell?" She muttered, confused by the person she saw before unlocking the chain lock and the bolt lock and swinging the door open.

Jack stood in the hallway, grinning from ear to ear and holding a small, rectangular shaped paper folder in his hands.

Alba quirked her eyebrow at him, "I'm not coming into work on my vacation." She said simply, not caring that he was her boss. It was her vacation and he had come banging on her door at 8 in the morning. She was not in the mood to play the respectful employee.

Jack shook his head quickly, "No, no, I know that! I'm here for a completely different reason!" he said giddily.

Alba's eyebrow remained raised, as she waited for him to continue.

He waved his hand at her in a 'hurry up' motion and said, "Go pack your bags! Your plane leaves at 10 at Washington National Airport and I'm here to deliver your ticket and drive you since you don't own a car." He explained.

Alba's eyes widened considerably and her mouth fell open in shock. She slowly shook her head, her mouth flapping lamely before she could finally form words, "J-Jack, I…I can't,"

Jack shook his head, waving his hand in the air as if waving away her words, "I already bought the ticket so if you don't go I wasted $297 dollars. You have no choice but to use it. This," he held up the small blue envelope, "Is your ticket there, and you return at 9:45AM July 5th, so you should be at O'Hare International at around 5AM, just to be safe. You can pick up your return ticket there." He paused, staring at her. "Well, go on! Go pack your things!"

Alba was frozen to the spot, before her lower lip started to tremble and she squeezed her eyes shut tightly.

Jack gapped at her, his eyes wide. "W-Wait, no, no, don't cry!" he said hastily, holding up his arms awkwardly, looking around the empty hallway for some sign of help. "This was supposed to make you happy!" he said quickly.

Alba nodded, pressing the palms of her hands against her eyes as she took in a sharp breath. "I can't believe you d-did this, Jack." She choked out, her voice cracking.

Jack nodded, "I told you, I wanted to make it up to you, and my wife said $297 dollars is nothing to help a girl see her family after almost two years. Now, go pack! Traffic is a bitch right now."

Alba nodded her head, pulling her hands from her eyes and hurrying back into her bedroom.

She tore off her clothing as she ran into her walk in closet, dressing in a white short sleeved button down and a pair of blue jeans, stepping into some flats before pulling one of her suitcases down off the top shelves.

She flung it open, grabbing a pair of flip flops and sneakers and tossing them into the bag, running out of the room and grabbing four days' worth of underwear and bras from her dresser, along with pajamas and two different bathing suits before returning to her suitcase.

She opened the drawers of the dresser in her closet and pulled out three pairs of shorts and a pair of jean capris, folding them sloppily before tossing them into the suitcase as well. Finally, she grabbed some tank tops and t-shirts from the dresser drawer and placed them at the top of the suitcase, slamming the lid shut and crawling on top of it to force it down, zipping it closed.

After that she unzipped the small compartments on the top of the suitcase and ran into her bathroom, grabbing her toothbrush and ran back into the closet. She stuffed the toothbrush inside before grabbing an unused backpack off the top shelf and walking out of the closet, suitcase and backpack in hand.

She quickly placed the suitcase in the hall outside her bedroom door before running around her bedroom, stuffing things into her backpack. She grabbed her phone charger, a few necklaces out of her jewelry box on her desk, she packed her laptop away in its case and placed that in the hall next to the suitcase, before finally stuffing her sunglasses, hairbrush and hair ties, and an array of different little objects that were scattered on her desk that she thought she might need.

Spinning around the room to make sure she had everything, and grabbing her cellphone off the nightstand she ran back outside her bedroom to see Jack had already grabbed her suitcase and was walking towards the door, leaving her to carry her laptop.

She grabbed her purse that was sitting idly on the counter in the kitchen and pulled her keys out, locking the front door quickly before hurrying down the hall to catch up with Jack.

She couldn't believe this, she felt like the luckiest girl in the world at that moment.

* * *

Steve sighed, completely worn out as he slumped back in his seat on the quinjet. He was returning home from a short two day mission with Natasha and Clint, the two assassins flying the jet as Steve relaxed into his seat, ready to return home and rest. His birthday was in four days, he would be turning twenty-six, but it didn't stop Tony Stark from sending him a text asking if he'd get a senior citizen discount at iHop for his 'ninety-sixth' birthday celebration.

Steve rolled his eyes at the thought, before reaching across the seat for his knapsack that held his cell phone, wanting to check to see if Sam or Sharon had called him while he was gone.

He was surprised to see a missed call from Alba from three hours ago, and tapped the button on the screen to listen to her voicemail.

There was a lot of noise in the background, as if she was in a crowded place, and she spoke a bit louder than she normally would, so Steve could hear her a lot better.

"Hey, Bucky, or Steve, whichever one of you guys is listening to this, hey, it's Alba. If this is Bucky, I am so sorry but I'll need a rain check on those fireworks on Friday. My assistant manager, Jack, surprised me like an hour ago with a ticket to Chicago so I'm on my way home. I'm at Washington National right now; I'm in the gate watching the planes take off and everything! I'm so completely sorry, though, that I have to cancel. If you're all alone on Friday and can somehow make it to Oxford, my family will most likely welcome you with open arms to join us in our barbeque and Fourth of July fun." She chuckled, "But, it's pretty stupid to think you could. It's a miracle _I'm_ going; I doubt you'd be able to find a way. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know, and if this is Steve listening please tell Bucky what I just said or let him listen to this message, I honestly don't know how the voicemail thing works when you share a phone so, uh," Alba paused. "Okay, well, I should go. I need to call my parents and tell them they'll need to pick me up in Chicago. Bucky, feel free to call me though, if you want to talk or something and I'll be back on Saturday morning if you want to pick me up from the airport, because Jack said he wasn't. Okay, bye."

There was a click on the phone and Steve knew the voicemail was over.

'_So Bucky _did_ ask her to spend the Fourth of July with him! But…I guess that's not happening anymore. I bet he was real excited too. Damn.'_ Steve sighed, slouching a bit in his chair as he stared at his phone.

He didn't know how Bucky would feel after hearing the message. Steve believed Bucky would have mixed emotions, because on one hand it seemed like Bucky was excited to be spending the Fourth of July with Alba, asking Steve and searching the internet for the perfect beaches to travel to to watch the fireworks. But on the other hand Steve had a feeling Bucky knew Alba's family was important to her, as was the case for most people, and he'd most likely be very happy Alba was able to go see her family.

It didn't matter what he felt when he heard the news, though, Steve knew Bucky would hide his emotions regardless.

* * *

Alba fiddled nervously with the strap of her laptop as she walked off the plane, staring around the gate at all the strangers walking towards the baggage claim to meet their friends or family or no one at all.

She had only been able to reach her parents answering machine so she hoped her mother had checked the messages, otherwise she'd be stranded an hour away from home until she could reach one of her siblings.

She followed the strangers down a set of escalators and followed the electronic signs hanging from the ceiling, saying Flight 462's luggage could be located at Baggage Claim C.

She took a left and saw the conveyer belt hadn't turned on yet, leaving the passengers of the flight standing around waiting impatiently for their things.

Alba sighed, reaching into her pocket for her phone when someone came to a stop next to her, waiting as well.

She didn't pay too much attention to the man as she checked her phone for any missed calls while she was in the air, but no one had gotten back to her, not even Bucky.

She sighed once more, looking off to her right in exasperation.

"Tough flight?" the man next to her asked, his voice deep and playful.

Alba's eyes widened and a large grin stretched across her face before she spun around, going to fling her arms around him but nearly smacked him in the face with her laptop case.

He stumbled back, grabbing hold of the case as Alba gawked in shock at what she had almost done. He gave her a pointed look, arching an eyebrow at her, "I haven't seen you in almost two years and the first thing you do is try to hit me in the face?"

"Parker!" Alba laughed, regaining her composer to drop her laptop by their feet and jumped into his arms, wrapping her arms around his back and burying her head in the crook of his shoulder.

Parker laughed, wrapping his arms around Alba's waist and hugging her tighter to his chest. "God, why the hell do you have a horse's mane on your head?" he laughed, nuzzling his head against her hair.

Alba shook her head, rolling her eyes as she let go of him and reached back down for her laptop, "I'm getting it cut soon; I can't stand it in the heat any longer."

"Good!" Parker grinned, absently running his pointer finger and thumb along his stubble on his chin.

Alba poked him squarely in the chest, "Why don't you shave when I cut my hair?"

He gawked at him, feigning mock shock, "I'll have you know Ryan loves the stubble."

Alba rolled her eyes, "Yeah, you look like a fifteen year old without it." She said, looking towards the conveyer belt to see it had finally turned on and luggage was lying idly on top of it.

The two of them walked towards the conveyer belt and Alba looked for her suitcase, hoping she didn't suddenly forget what it looked like, or worse, realizing the airline had lost it.

"Aha!" Parker exclaimed as he grabbed the medium sized suitcase with Alba's name written on the tag and pulled it off by the handle.

"_Oomph_!" Parker grunted, the suitcase falling hard against the floor by his feet, he had underestimated the weight.

He glared at her a moment before heaving it up and leaning against the opposite foot, "I should have known you wouldn't pack light."

"Actually I did." She said smartly, walking towards the doors leading outside.

Parker rolled his eyes, "Yeah, packing light for a guy is like two t-shirts, a pair of shorts and _maybe_ a change of underwear."

Alba gagged, "What does Ryan see in you?" She asked him playfully, holding the door open for him.

Parker smirked at her before sending her a playful wink, "I don't think I want to scar my little sister just yet with that information."

Alba laughed and the two of them hurried across the street to the parking garage, Parker pulling out his keys and setting off the alarm to remind himself where he parked.

Alba hurried up to Parker's 2008 Audi S5, pulling open the passenger side door and throwing her backpack and laptop in the back seat while Parker stuffed her suitcase in the trunk.

"Still runs well?" she asked, buckling her seatbelt as he stepped into the driver's side.

He shrugged, "I'm not looking into getting rid of it anytime soon. It's doing pretty good for six years old." He explained, starting the engine and taking off out of the parking lot at a fast speed.

Alba gripped the seatbelt strap, suddenly remembering her brother's love for driving fast. She didn't have too much of a problem with it, except when they were driving 20 over the speed limit in a parking garage.

"God, you're insane." She muttered, lunging forward as Parker came to a stop at a crosswalk.

He smirked, nodding his head, "It's what I've been told. Now, hold on tight. We're going through the city."

Alba arched an eyebrow, looking over at her brother as she readjusted herself in her seat, "Why? That's completely out of the way from home."

He nodded, pursing his lips, "Yeah, but this new building got put in about a year and a half ago and I _think_ you'll be interested in seeing it." He said a playful tone in his voice.

Alba gave him a confused look, not completely understanding what he was getting at, but sat back regardless, knowing there was no talking him out of taking her once his mind was set.

They drove for over thirty minutes to reach the heart of Chicago, Parker going on about his job at the restaurant and Ryan's recent promotion and a few tedious updates about their siblings and spouses.

"You know Mags is gonna question you about work." Parker started suddenly, taking a sharp right.

Alba gripped the console, her eyes wide and her teeth gritted before the turn was over and she relaxed a bit, finally processing what Parker had said.

She rolled her eyes, "She always does. It's like she enjoys reminding all of us that none of our jobs compare to her glamorous life as a vet."

"Hey, I'm the assistant manager for a 5 star bistro in Chicago; I think I'm doing well. Well enough to make Maggie stop asking me when I'm going back to school." He chuckled.

Alba sighed, "Yeah, well, I'm working on being a published writer, and if she doesn't see I _can't_ just be a teacher or a reporter until then she needs to get to know me a bit better."

Parker nodded, his lips pursed in thought as he came to a rough stop in the middle of the road. Alba lunched forward, stopped roughly by her seatbelt before Parker put the car in reverse and began parallel parking next to a tall, ten story building.

Alba peered out her window curiously as Parker finished up his parking job, and placed his car in park.

"Like that building?" he asked.

Alba shrugged, her forehead pressed against the window as she peered up at it. "It's nice. What is it?"

"Langston Brothers Publishing Company." Parker announced formally, using a mocking British accent as he spoke to sound a bit distinguished.

Alba looked over at him, confused on her face. "I've never heard of them."

He shrugged, "I did some research. They're based in California but they just opened up this branch a year and a half ago. I don't think you've sent them any copies of your books, have you?" He asked, wiggling his eyebrows with a knowing smirk on his face.

Alba's mouth fell open slightly as she peered into the backseat at her laptop. She kept virtual copies of all her work on her laptop, and she always took it with her when she traveled. She knew a place in Oxford that could print off her book in this company wanted a physical copy, and she was prepared to email a copy to them as well.

"I'll look up their information tonight and call tomorrow morning about sending in my book." Alba told him, a grin slowly stretching across her face.

Parker smiled, holding his arms in the air as high as he could in his small sports car, "Yes!" he cheered. "I have no doubt in you, Ali. This is your lucky day, I can feel it."

She laughed, nodding her head, bouncing in her seat a bit at her own excitement. "Now, let's please go home! I'm dying to see everyone and take a much needed nap."

* * *

Parker was forced to park his car across the street, considering the two car driveway and all the parking space in front of the house was taken.

"Well, you know everyone's here to welcome you home." Parker chuckled, heaving her suitcase higher off the ground as they walked across the street to the beige colored two story house with dark brown window shutters. There was a covered porch with a two person swing and a two car garage, the garage doors painted a dark brown color to match the shutters. Covering the front lawn was shrubs, flower beds with pink or blue flowers, and a baby tree planted firmly in the center of the front yard.

Alba and Parker maneuvered their way around the cars and up to the white and dark brown painted front door. Alba pushed open the door, stepping inside to cool fresh air and the sounds of water splashing, children and adults laughing, and a faint sound of music.

"We're back!" Parker shouted as he kicked the front door closed, letting Alba's suitcase call noisily onto the floor next to the door. He kicked off his flip flops and waited as Alba shrugged off her backpack and placed it on the floor with her laptop and suitcase.

Alba stared around the house she grew up in; a feeling of pure and utter happiness take her over as she took it all in. The front room to the right of the front door, which was normally a formal sitting room but had always been her mother's playroom for her children and now grandchildren, was completely clean; all the colorful cubbies lining the walls were filled to the brim of different toys, a small table with a train track design sat in the center of the room with Thomas The Train Engine toys on top of it, and the beige rug was stainless.

The walls hung multiple pictures of Alba and her siblings growing up, along with just as many pictures of the grandchildren.

Almost directly in front of the front door was the staircase leading upstairs, and Alba and Parker both walked down the hallway past the play room and walked right into the kitchen, living room and dining room.

The kitchen was on the right, immediately after the play room, and had white cabinets and tile countertops, the appliances, however, weren't as dated as the rest of the kitchen, and was instead a cool stainless steel. There was a breakfast bar leading into the dining room, which held a dark mahogany table that count seat nearly twelve with the leaves places in it, and next to the dining room table was the sliding glass door leading to the backyard.

To the left was the large living room, which held Alba's father's favorite leather recliner, a large grey sectional and in the corner a variety of beanbag chairs for the grandchildren to sit, while mounted on the wall was a flat screen television and a small shelf under the television held the cable box and a DVD player.

And, like the rest of the house, the walls were covered in photos of various family members.

Parker ushered Alba towards the sliding glass door, opening the screen and pushing her onto the back patio first.

There was an average sized built in pool in the right corner of the backyard, with a diving board and a slide, and in the center of the backyard was a plastic playpen which held two small children under the age of four, running around a sprinkler.

On the patio were one large picnic table and then a smaller one, and seated at the larger one was the majority of the adults, while two of them were swimming in the pool with the rest of the children, and a small boom box played music on a table next to the screened in door.

Everyone's attention turned to Alba and Parker once the screen door opened, and nearly everyone stood up and hurried over to the brunette engulfing her in hugs and a few of them being reduced to tears.

A short woman with fluffy light red hair and stick skinny was the first to reach Alba, her eyes watering and a large smile on her face as she hugged her, hugging her tightly and Alba realized for the first time just how small her mother was, and how she was nearly two inches taller than her.

"Oh, my little baby, she's come home!" her mother cooed as she rocked Alba back and forth.

Alba laughed, nodding her head, "I've missed you mom!"

Her father was next; his glasses perched crooked on his nose as he smiled at her, giving her a one armed hug since her mother had yet to let her go. "I take back all the crap I've ever said about that boss of yours." He muttered to her, but her siblings still managed to hear and chuckled.

Alba went around once her mother let go of her and gave quick hugs to all her siblings before nearly being tackled by the dozen of nieces and nephews she had.

"Aunt Alba, you've been gone for forever!" Caroline whined, flinging herself into her aunts arms as Alba bent down to be on the same level as most of them.

Damon and Harley let Ana and Julia out of the playpen and Aiden and Susan ushered the five year olds out of the pool and they all hurried over towards Alba, their arms held up away from their as their water wings kept them from putting their arms down.

Miles, Avery, Bryce, Katelyn, Gabriel, Ana and Julia all tried to pile on top of Alba, wanting to be held or to sit on her knee like Caroline but they only managed to topple Alba over and she fell back against the patio, letting out a laugh.

"Come on, leave her alone!" Harley demanded, taking charge as the eldest of the grandchildren and gently pulling each cousin away, Damon and Tate stepping up to help him as well.

Once all the children were pulled off Alba she held out her arms for the older kids to come give her a hug, and Harley, Damon, Tate and Beth all hurried into Alba's arms for a large group hug.

"Took you long enough." Harley muttered into her ear, causing Alba to laugh.

"I could say the same to you, Smart Guy." She said cockily, causing Harley to smirk.

Bryce walked past the bigger kids once they had stepped away from their hug and took a seat on Alba's knee, smiling at her happily before looking over at his cousins.

"How long are you here?" Beth asked, brushing some of her shoulder length damp red hair out of her eyes.

Alba shrugged, absently wrapping her arms around Bryce's stomach and pulling him closer to her, allowing her to rest her chin on his small shoulder. "I leave very early Saturday morning, so our goodbye would have to be Friday night after the fireworks."

A collection of awe's and moans escaped all the children's mouths, and Harley piped up, "But you're bringing me to D.C., right? You promised last month I could spend some time with you up there." he said smartly.

Alba narrowed her eyes as all the kids began complaining and asking why Alba hadn't invited them to stay with him.

She shook her head at them, giving them a small smile, "That's not gonna happen, kiddos. I don't have enough room in my apartment for all of you, and I only agreed to Harley visiting when he was old enough to take complete care of himself."

"I can!" he defended, before giving her a smart look, "Might I remind you about the time I fought bad guys with,"

"Tony Stark." A chorus responded, causing a small flush to tint Harley's cheeks and he crossed his arms, a frustrated look on his face as he pouted his lips.

Alba laughed, before nudging Bryce off her knee and standing up. "Alright, I'm gonna catch up with all your parents, you guys go back to playing." She called, and the children scattered towards the pool with Susan, Aidan staying behind to catch up with his sister.

Alba took a seat at the picnic table in between her mother and Parker, while her sisters and father took up the rest of the room on the benches and all the son-in-laws and fiancés stood behind their respected spouse.

"Okay, so, what's been happening in D.C.? You never tell us anything anymore!" Cassidy asked, giving her sister a grin.

"I'm almost positive there is a guy waiting for her back home." Parker smirked, sending a side eyed look at Alba.

Her cheeks tinted a light shade of pink and she quickly shook her head, "No, there isn't."

"Then why did you keep checking your phone when we drove into Chicago? As if you were expecting someone to call you," Parker trailed off in a knowing voice.

Ryan swatted Parker's shoulder and glared down at him, "Quit it, she just got here and you're already tormenting her."

Parker rolled his eyes before looking back at his sister, nudging her with his shoulder, "What's his name?"

Alba ignored him, looking towards Victoria at the other end of the table, "How was the drive up?"

Victoria fiddled with her brown hair, shrugging her shoulders, "Boring. Harley played DJ and Katie was cranky the whole time because she wasn't sleeping in a bed and was bored. Enough about me, what's going on with this guy?" She asked, grinning.

Alba gawked at her sister before crossing her arms and shaking her head, "Nothing is going on with any guy."

Cassidy waved her hand in the air, laughing, "Oh, please, you're all defensive now. Absolutely the sign that there is a guy; tell us before we steal your phone and call whichever number looks suspicious." She said in a playful warning tone.

Alba laughed, "Oh, yeah, like I'd actually let you steal my phone."

"His name is Bucky!" Parker said, jumping up in his seat and holding onto Alba's iPhone.

She paled, staring up at him in shock before Ryan gripped Parker's shoulder and pushed him back down in his seat, grabbing the phone out of his hand in the process. "I swear I'm marrying a five year old." Ryan muttered, handing the phone back to Alba.

She nodded her thanks, but the damage was done.

"What kind of name is Bucky?" Maggie asked, scrunching up her nose as she said it.

"I don't care about the name; just let me have my Big Brother talk with him about hurting you, because I am not letting you go through what happened last time." Aidan said seriously, crossing his arms and nodding his head.

Alba rolled her eyes, before looking over at her sister Rowan. "You're being awfully quiet."

Rowan was resting her chin in her hand, a bored expression on her face before shrugging her shoulders, "Don't take it personally Julia kept me up most of the night."

"So, you're dating a boy named Bucky," her mother started, patting Alba's forearm.

Alba groaned, shaking her head, "I'm not dating anyone mom. We're just friends, I swear."

"Does this 'just friend' have a good job to support you while you're just a barista?" Maggie asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Alba narrowed her eyes, "Let's not get into my work life right now. Let's wait for the family dinner later."

"Well they _obviously_ aren't sleeping together; otherwise she wouldn't be acting like that." Cassidy chuckled.

Alba flushed, burying her head in her hands. "Why did I miss this?"

"Because you love us." Parker said cheekily, nudging her with his shoulder.

Alba chuckled, "That I do."

* * *

Steve didn't return home until 8 o'clock that night and saw Bucky was sitting lazily on the couch with a bag of chips watching an old movie.

He knew Bucky would want to know right away about the change in his plans with Alba, so Steve left his bag by the front door and walked into the living room, stopping next to Bucky on the couch.

Steve had his phone out and was pulling up the voice mail as Bucky paused the movie to look up at him.

"How was the mission?" he asked, staring at Steve's tired expression.

"The usual. Here," he held out the phone for Bucky, "I missed the call and she left a voicemail." He said simply, letting Bucky to take the phone and hold it his ear, letting the message play.

As he listened, he realized what she was going to say before she even said it. She was going home. The moment she said she had to cancel he knew she was going home.

He felt like an idiot for thinking this would work out. Hardly anything good every worked out for him. Why would he be so lucky to occupy her time on the Fourth of July? Of course she'd find some miracle that would take her home, where she never had her panic attacks and where she's surrounded by her loving family, something Bucky wished he still had.

He closed his eyes tightly, mentally shaking his head. No, he wouldn't think like that. Alba hadn't seen her family in years; she deserved to see them, even if it meant Bucky couldn't see her for five days. He was just her friend; he had no right to be selfish about spending time with her.

He would wait until she came back and would see her then. Perhaps he'd even see if she'd like to spend some other holiday together.

'_Not a date.'_ Bucky repeated in his head, reminding himself, as if not to become hopeful at the prospect.

"_Bucky, feel free to call me though, if you want to talk or something and I'll be back on Saturday morning if you want to pick me up from the airport, because Jack said he wasn't. Okay, bye_." Alba's voice rang through his ear before the message ended.

Bucky pulled the phone away from his ear and stared down at the device, thinking over what she had just said.

"Bucky?" Steve asked, and Bucky had completely forgotten Steve had been standing there the entire time.

Bucky looked up at him, and Steve had an expectant look on his face, "Are you okay?" he asked.

Bucky nodded his head, pushing himself off the couch, the phone still in hand. "I'm going to go make a call." He said simply, walking past Steve towards the front door.

Steve cringed, waiting for the door to be pulled off its hinges, but found himself surprised to see Bucky had closed the door gently and quietly.

The brunette walked towards the stairs leading towards the roof of the building, taking the steps two at a time before pushing open the heavy door leading towards the roof and stepping out into the dark night.

He looked out at the lights illuminating the windows of all the buildings in D.C., and waited a moment before staring down at the phone and dialing out Alba's phone number, which he had unconsciously memorized.

It rang four times before she picked up.

* * *

Alba sat outside by the pool that night, a majority of her siblings having left for the night, the only ones left were Parker and Ryan to talk with their parents about mindless wedding details, while Victoria was tucking Katie and Harley into bed; the family of three staying at the house as well as Alba.

Her phone sat idly next to her as she kicked her feet back and forth in the water of the pool, leaning back against the palm of her hands. She felt so much calmer, like a weight had been lifted that she didn't know she carried, now that she was home. She had to admit, she forgot the amount of teasing she received from her siblings as the youngest, but she was so grateful to actually be home she was happy to put up with it for the next four days.

She heard the door to the backyard slide open but didn't bother looking as Parker came walking up beside her and took a seat, placing his feet into the water as well and copying Alba's leaning position.

"Good to be home?" he asked idly.

Alba nodded, "Great, actually. I've missed the kids, mom and dad, everyone, even you." She said smartly, giving him a playful grin.

Parker chuckled, nodding his head, "Yeah, I get that a lot." He paused, looking over at her. "Were you going to spend the Fourth with him?" he asked curiously.

Alba looked over at him, quirking her eyebrow up. "Who? Bucky?"

Parker nodded.

Alba nodded her head, "He asked, I said yes. Of course, I thought I wasn't going to be coming home. I felt like shit calling him and telling I had to cancel. I was hoping he'd call sometime today so I could apologize. I still feel like shit for it. I'll try to make it up to him, though." She explained.

Parker nodded, "Just sleep with him and he'll be okay with you ditching him."

Alba laughed disbelievingly, shaking her head, "You don't just solve everything by throwing yourself at someone."

Parker shrugged, "Hey, sometimes the best things happen when you throw yourself at someone. I made the first move with Ry; you should make the first move with this Bucky dude."

"You refused to give him his bill at the restaurant until he wrote down his phone number. You call that a first move?" Alba shot back.

Parker shrugged once more, "Yeah, and we've been together almost three years, and are getting married next year. Sounds like everything worked out for the better." He shot back, smirking.

Alba rolled her eyes, "I'm not throwing myself at Bucky. It's…different with him." She explained.

Parker gave her a look, "Different how? Is he ten years older than you? Married? Questioning his sexuality?"

Alba laughed, shaking her head, "No, you idiot. He just…he's been in a bad situation where he was sort of…controlled. I don't want to push anything on him; I want him to decide if he wants something to come out of us. I don't want him to think I'm trying to control anything in his life or that he can't trust me in any way, because he can. I…I _really_ like this guy, Parker. I don't want to mess it up and if I make one wrong move I feel like I could mess it up so badly it would never go back to normal." She explained, frowning as she looked at her feet in the water.

Parker gave his sister a sad look, before nudging her with his shoulder, "Okay so he was, what, in a really controlling previous relationship? So he's got issues now, so do you. Sounds like both of you are messed up. Maybe be messed up together?" he questioned, before kicking one leg out of the water and splashing Alba's torso with water.

She gawked at him, and he grinned, "Don't doubt my intuition, Alba. I have a gut feeling this is the guy for you, despite the little knowledge I have of him. If you could have seen your face when you were just talking about him, you'd know it's a hell of a lot more serious than just liking this guy. Risk it and make a move, dammit, because just waiting for him to make the first move is torture." He explained.

Alba opened her mouth to retort when he phone began buzzing next to her.

She grabbed it a bit too quickly and saw the familiar name appear on the screen.

She looked towards Parker, "It's Bucky."

He smirked knowingly, pushing himself to stand up, "Looks like I'm not needed. See you tomorrow, sis." He called, walking towards the door.

Alba turned to watch him go before looking back down at her phone. She pressed the '_Answer_' button on the fourth ring and held the phone to her ear.

"Hey, Bucky?" she questioned, unsure if it was Bucky or Steve on the other end.

"It's me." Bucky responded, and he sounded a bit on edge to Alba.

"Did you get to Chicago okay?" he asked quickly. Alba realized why he sounded like that. He was worried. She smiled, closing her eyes a moment as she let sudden warmth fill her and she slowly nodded her head, "Yeah, it was a really quiet flight and Parker picked me up."

"Everyone is happy you're home?"

"Yeah." Alba paused, looking down at her lap, "I'm so sorry for canceling on you, Bucky."

"It's okay." He said, "You've missed them a lot, you deserve this."

Alba smile stretched wider and she fell back against the ground, staring up at the stars. "Thank you for understanding Bucky."

He grunted in response, before a small silence stretched between them. Alba contemplated telling him about the publishing company her brother had found her, but Bucky spoke first.

"What's your flight information for Saturday?"

Alba quirked her eyebrow, a small smirk playing on her lips, "Why? Are you going to pick me up?"

"Maybe." He said coolly, and Alba could detect a hint of playfulness in his voice.

She grinned completely, "I didn't know you could drive."

"I can drive a lot of things, you'd be surprised. Now, the flight information?"

Alba rolled her eyes, "Washington National Airport, flight 349, I believe. My arrival time is 9:45 AM, and I think gate 11 is where you can pick me up. That is, if you decide to pick me up." She said, playfully.

Bucky chuckled on the other end, and the sweet, deep sound made Alba forget why she had been so happy to be home for a moment.


	11. Chapter 11

_Not a long chapter. Bigger things to come, though, I promise! Enjoy!_

* * *

Alba lay idly on her bed, staring up at her phone as she relaxed before the Fourth of July festivities began.

The last three days had been so eventful she felt she deserved one day of her vacation relaxing just a bit. Tuesday had been spent emailing and on the phone with a representative at Langston Brothers Publishing Company; Wednesday Parker had treated Alba and their fellow siblings to lunch at his bistro, where they dined on an authentic Chicago deep dish pizza before Alba branched off to go meet up with her friends from high school.

And on Thursday Parker had dragged her to a very loud night club, where Alba felt more than a little uncomfortable with all the grinding going on on the dance floor and was very questionable about the contents of her lime daiquiri, which she chose not to drink.

Her bedroom door squeaked open and Alba didn't look away from her phone as Harley walked into her room and climbed into her bed, falling back beside her and resting his head on another pillow as he stared up at her phone as well.

"Facebook?" he asked curiously.

Alba nodded, "A friend of Bucky's added me and I'm trying to figure out a bit more about her, but it's completely blank. It's like she uses Facebook just to keep tabs on people or something."

"Nat R.?" Harley read off the name of the profile Alba was staring at.

She nodded, "Rushman, I think it was. She doesn't even have a good profile picture; it's all blurry and dark."

"Then how do you know it's Bucky's friend?" Harley asked curiously.

Alba scrolled down the page and pointed to a checkpoint on the timeline, "She was at the same bar we all went to as a group at the same time on the same day. I don't think it's a coincidence. I don't know, I guess I'm just overly bored and stalking peoples Facebook's." She muttered, tossing her phone onto the pillow in the space above her head.

Harley grinned at her, "You could help me build my prototype for my mini catapult."

"I thought your mom said no engineering stuff while on vacation?" Alba retorted, smirking. Harley rolled his eyes, "I'm just making designs, I'm not building anything yet. So, do you want to help or not?"

Alba shrugged, "I'm not too great with that stuff, kiddo. Maybe call up Tony Stark for help?" She asked amusement in her voice.

Harley shook his head, "Nah, we aren't gonna meet again for a long time."

Alba quirked her eyebrow at him, turning onto her side and propping her head up in her hand as she stared at him, "What makes you say that?"

Harley shrugged, "I just think that's how it's gonna be. I probably won't meet him until I'm like twenty-five with two different degrees in engineering. I was thinking MIT for college, what do you think?" he asked, looking over at her.

Alba smiled, nodding her head, "I think you'd do great there."

Harley beamed, before looking back up at the ceiling, "Well, I'll probably meet Tony again on like the street or something. And by then he'll be like…really old, sixty maybe."

Alba snorted, shaking her head as he continued.

"And we're always gonna need Iron Man, right? And Tony has no kids, so with my insane knowledge in engineering and our history, he'll totally take me on as an apprentice and I'll become the next Iron Man." He grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he looked towards his aunt.

Alba grinned, nodding her head, "I think you'd make a great Iron Man, kiddo. Just don't go and become such a playboy like Tony." She said, pointing her finger at him and giving him a stern look.

Harley smirked, "No promises."

* * *

The one downer the Donoghue family faced every year for the Fourth of July was whether or not they would go see actually fireworks along the shoreline of Lake Michigan, or stay on the street and play with sparklers and other small little fireworks with the children.

It was decided they'd stay home and have their family BBQ and go swimming, instead of driving in traffic to sit along the crowded beach of Lake Michigan, and then facing bumper to bumper traffic on the way home, especially when Alba had to be up by at least four the next morning to get ready for her flight back to D.C.

Alba was fiddling with her hair, a small pout on her lips as she stared at the dead ends, wishing she had gone to get it cut at some point this past week, sitting on one of the kitchen chairs while her mother, Maggie, Victoria and Aidan were prepping the food for the grill.

"If you want it off so badly," Aidan called from his place at the counter, chopping vegetables for the salad he was making, "You could ask Caroline. She's obsessed with cutting her dolls hair off."

Alba chuckled, "Maybe I will. At least with her I won't have to pay her."

"Please tell me you're joking about letting a five year old cut your hair." Maggie said, giving her a pleading look.

"Mom will even it out anyway. She used to cut our hair all the time; anything to save money for groceries." Alba grinned, brushing her hair over her shoulder.

"If you're trying to say you want me to cut your hair at some point today, missy, you better be paying me." Her mother chided, pointing the knife she held in her hands at Alba, a stern look on her face.

The siblings broke out in a laugh, before Alba jumped up and walked into the kitchen, pulling open a junk drawer and pulling out a large pair of craft scissors with an orange handle.

"Oh God, she was serious." Maggie muttered, while Alba walked towards the sliding glass door into the backyard.

All the children, along with Rowan and Susan, were swimming and splashing in the pool while Cassidy, Will, Parker, Ryan and Nico all stood on the right side of the patio where a large grill stood.

"Anyone wanna cut my hair since mom wants me to pay her?" Alba asked curiously, holding the scissors loosely in her hands as she stared at her siblings and in-laws.

Parker chortled, before noticing the serious expression on her face and gapped at her, "You really don't want to spend thirteen bucks at a barber shop?"

"Don't get me wrong, I would, it's just everyone is closed for the Fourth. Come on, just up to my shoulder blades, I'm tired of looking like a brunette Rapunzel." She explained, falling back against the bench at the picnic table.

"Oh, give me the scissors, you big baby." Cassidy said, walking over to her and holding out her hand for the scissors. "You can't even stand a little heat with this hair, can you?"

"Says the woman with a pixie cut." Alba reminded, sending her sister a small glare before spinning around on the bench so her back was to Cassidy.

The pixie haired woman ran her fingers through Alba's hair a few times before pressing the side of her hand just under Alba's shoulder blade, "Right here?" She questioned.

Alba gently nodded her head, "Yup. Go for it."

With that said Cassidy placed the scissors in her hair and pulled it a bit farther from Alba's back, before beginning the 'hacking off' process.

It took less than two minutes to chunk off the nine inches of hair. When it was done, cutting the hair as even as Cassidy could make it, Alba spun around and let out a laugh at the sight of all her hair covering the patio.

Parker pulled out his phone and took a quick photo, wanting to save the happy and shocked expression Alba had on for when she went through her '_post-haircut depression'_, but Alba was certain she wouldn't go through that. She had wanted to get it cut for months, it was a relief.

"How will your boyfriend react to your hair so short?" Harley asked an hour later as he walked out of the pool, running his towel through his soaking hair.

Alba glared at him playfully, a small smirk on her lips as she reemerged from the house with her newly short hair falling off her shoulder, wearing a teal and white stripped tankini top and jean shorts.

"He isn't my boyfriend, wise guy."

"Whatever, you like him." Harley shot back, plopping down on the bench next to Alba. "And if he turns you down, when I become Iron Man I'll just beat his ass for hurting you."

"Language, Har." Alba said pointedly, elbowing him in the side. "And, not to give anything away, but I think he might be able to stand a chance against a fight with Iron Man."

Harley quirked an eyebrow at his aunt, confusion on his face, "Why?" but as soon as he said it, his eyes went wide and he leaned in closer, "Is he an Avenger?" he whispered, his lips stretching into a grin.

Alba laughed, shaking her head, "No, but he's gone toe to toe with one of them."

"You like a bad guy?" Harley asked incredulously. Alba laughed again, shaking her head, "He isn't bad. I don't think I should be sharing this with you, anyway, kiddo. Go play and if you breathe a word of this I will personally hunt down Tony Stark and make him have a kid so you never get that chance of being the next Iron Man."

Harley gawked at her, his eyes wide before groaning and nodding his head, standing up, "Fine. But even though I know you can't actually make him have a kid, I'll keep this secret. Just don't go ending up as some damsel in distress, no one likes those. People prefer a woman who can save herself, like the Black Widow." Harley explained, before walking off into the house.

Alba scoffed, shaking her head.

Her father, Aidan, and the rest of her brother-in-laws were all gathered around the grill moving things on and off and flipping things over, Parker was fiddling with a few toy fireworks for later that night, Ryan was playing football with the nephews and nieces, and Alba's sisters and sister-in-laws were either setting up the picnic tables with plates and cups or tampering with the stereo to play their preferred music.

Alba felt a bit useless, unsure of what to do, as she twirled her shorter hair around her finger.

It was getting late, almost seven, which meant it was almost eight in D.C.

She pulled her cell phone from her shorts pocket and stared at it. Today was Steve's birthday (which caused Alba to let out a small laugh because _of course_ Captain America's birthday was on the Fourth of July), and Bucky said Steve was going out with Sharon to watch fireworks tonight. Did that mean Steve had the phone and Bucky was all alone at the apartment? Did he go out without her?

She didn't want to risk calling Steve in the middle of his birthday-date with Sharon, but she felt very useless and had an urge to talk to Bucky since they hung up Monday night. She had been busy the last few days but the urge hadn't left, if anything her busyness was just a distraction from the urge that had always been there, and now that she was sitting outside feeling useless, the urge was growing stronger.

She stood up from the bench and walked towards the side gate of the house, pushing the latch open and sneaking her way out of the backyard towards the front, turning the corner onto the front lawn and jumped through the flower beds and onto the front porch before taking a seat on the porch swing.

She stared down at the contact on her phone that read _Bucky_ and chewed on her bottom lip.

She could send a text message first. A text message isn't as ruining and awkward as a phone call in the middle of a date.

She pressed the text message option and typed out '_Is Bucky available?' _and pressed sent.

Her foot tapped eagerly as she gently rocked back and forth on the swing, staring down at the phone and waiting for a response, if any.

Nearly ten minutes past before her phone buzzed in her hands and she stared down at the screen with the message planted across it.

'_Yes._'

She grinned, unlocking her phone and pressing the call button on Bucky's number, pressing the phone to her ear and Bucky answered after the first ring.

"Shouldn't you be spending tonight with your family?" Bucky said immediately, his voice sounding amused.

Alba scoffed, leaning back against the swing, "I have another ten minutes before we sit down and eat, than afterwards when it's darker we're going to light sparklers."

"No going to a fireworks show?" Bucky asked curiously.

"Nope. I have to get up pretty early tomorrow and traffic would be a killer coming home tonight, so we're just spending the night here at the house. What are you doing to honor this national holiday?" she asked, smirking.

"Eating pizza and watching The Three Stooges." He said boredly.

"No tuning into the Macy's Fireworks Show? It's always spectacular."

"I'm not too interested in seeing some loud explosions that make bright lights in the sky."

Alba pursed her lips in thought, "Than why did you invite me to watch fireworks with you?" she asked curiously.

Bucky hesitated on the other end, which made Alba think he hadn't heard her for a moment. Finally, he spoke, "I thought you'd like watching the fireworks, that it might get your mind off not being with your family." He muttered.

Alba smiled, staring down at her lap as she tried to find the right words. "T-That's very sweet, Bucky, thank you."

Alba heard heavy footsteps inside the house and looked up to see Harley and Bryce waving at her from the window, mouthing that it was time to eat.

"Looks like dinner's ready." Alba muttered, "I'll see you tomorrow at the airport."

"See you tomorrow." Bucky repeated.

"And please don't reveal to me that you drive a motorcycle or something tomorrow, because I have a suitcase, backpack and laptop case and I doubt that would all fit on a motorcycle." She chuckled, which made Bucky laugh as well.

"I promise it'll be a car. Goodnight." He said.

Alba nodded, "Goodnight."

* * *

Staying up until eleven to share hugs and heartfelt goodbyes with all her nieces and nephews and siblings, Alba was thoroughly exhausted when she woke up the next morning at four.

But, despite her exhaustion, she dragged herself into the shower and downstairs to make something for breakfast, where her mother and Harley were already there cooking.

Harley explained that he was normally up this early anyway; to help make breakfast for his mom before she went in for her shift at the factory, and Alba's mom refused to sleep in when her daughter was leaving in a few short hours.

So after the three made a full breakfast of pancakes, bacon, eggs, waffles, and grapefruit, Alba hurried upstairs to make sure she had everything packed and ready for when she left for the airport at six.

Dressed and ready by 5:45 in shorts and a grey t-shirt with the numbers '01' on the front, she stood in the hallway leaning to the kitchen with her bags, waiting for her mother to come downstairs with the car keys to take her to the airport.

But as she waited someone incessantly rang the doorbell, which made Victoria and Alba's father, both coming down the stairs for breakfast, groan and yell at whoever it was ringing the bell so early.

Alba, too tired for this, stormed up to the door with a glare on her face, ready to scream at them for being so inconsiderate, swung the door open to reveal Parker grinning at her. "Just wanted to make sure you were awake." He said, before walking past her and grabbing her laptop and suitcase.

"You're the biggest asshole to ever asshole on the planet." Victoria told him as she leaned against the hallway.

"Not one of your better insults, Tori." Parker chided, before planting a kiss on her cheek and walking back to the door. "I already agreed to take you to and from the airport. What, did you think mom and dad were going to drive you at six in the morning when they can barely handle driving at night? Nope. I'm taking you, let's go." Parker said seriously to Alba as he walked past her and out the door towards his car.

She rolled her eyes before hurrying over to Victoria and giving her a hug, "Keep an eye on that Harley, he's growing up way too fast." She muttered, squeezing her sister tightly.

Victoria chuckled, "Don't I know it. Safe flight sis."

Alba nodded, before shouldering her backpack and turning to leave. Just as she turned, hurried footsteps came from the staircase.

Alba looked up to see Harley running down the steps holding something close to his chest.

"You can't leave without this." He said seriously, giving her a look before glancing over at his mom and ushering Alba out the door, closing it behind him.

She gave him a confused look, "Did I forget my toothbrush or something?" She asked him.

Harley shook his head, waving his hand for her to lean down towards him. She obeyed and watched as Harley unveiled a small Iron Man button.

She smiled, giving him an amused look, "What's this for?"

"It was in my workshop after Tony put all my new stuff in there. It's a tracking device, because you're in love with a bad guy,"

"I'm not in love with anyone-!" Alba interrupted, but Harley cut her off.

"Keep this on you, for good luck, and this way I can keep tabs on where you are so you don't go missing or anything." He explained, taking the button and pinning it to her backpack strap.

"I don't want to lose anyone else, not like my dad." He said a sad look on his face.

Alba's lips turned down in a frown, before she flicked his nose, "Don't guilt trip me, you little runt." She chided, before pulling him close, "You aren't going to lose me, I'm not dumb enough to become some damsel in distress. Besides, you make it sound like your dad was kidnapped or something, you know that isn't true."

Harley nodded, "I know, but normally whenever I bring him up I get my way; besides getting Tony to stay."

Alba chuckled, pushing Harley back a step to look at him once more, "You know I'll probably keep this button in my purse anyway, no need to guilt me into anything." She kissed his cheek and gave him one last hug, "Be a good big brother and don't go setting the house on fire with one of your experiments, kiddo."

Harley nodded, pushing away, "Alright, alright, get out of here already, you're smothering me." He joked, a small smirk on his lips.

Alba laughed, nodding her head before standing back up and hurrying towards Parker's car, where he was already sitting waiting.

"Heartfelt goodbye with your favorite nephew?" Parker asked curiously as he watched Alba buckle her seatbelt, her purse and backpack on her lap.

She shook her head, "You know I don't play favorites, and yes."

Parker chuckled, before taking off down the street at lightning speed to get her to the airport.

"So, remember, make the first move otherwise I will find a way to contact this guy ask why he's taking so long in making a move." Parker reminded her as he turned right down the street.

Alba rolled her eyes, "Don't do anything stupid that will make Ryan call off the engagement."

Parker scoffed, "I do something stupid every day, where have you been, Ali?" he asked, before signaling to get onto the main road.

The drive to the airport was surprisingly quicker than Alba had thought, stopping out from by 6:45, but it still didn't stop her from rushing out of the car, knowing going through security would still be a hassle and take forever.

"Have everything?" Parker asked.

Alba nodded, adjusting the strap on her laptop case and slinging it over her shoulder along with her purse and backpack, while her suitcase sat at her feet.

Parker stood in front of her, his hands in his pockets and a relaxed expression on his face, before quickly pulling her into a tight hug, the whiskers of his beard scratching against Alba's cheek and ear.

"You better come back soon, okay? I'm tired of only seeing you on Facebook." He muttered.

Alba smiled, hugging him back, "I promise. Once my book gets published I'll start saving up for my own place back here. Not offense to D.C., but I'll always love Illinois better." She chuckled.

"You sure Boyfriend-Bucky wouldn't mind a long distance relationship? Or by that time he'd just move here with you?" Parker asked a mischievous look in his eyes as he pulled away from his baby sister.

Alba laughed, rolling her eyes, "Shut up, Park. I'll try to be home for Thanksgiving."

He nodded, taking a step back towards his car, "You better, and bring that boy of yours." He said, winking, before turning and walking towards the driver's side door.

Alba smiled, picking up her suitcase and heading inside. She picked up her ticket, checked her suitcase and stood in line for forty-five minutes to go through security, before hurrying down the terminals and sat waiting with a large crowd of strangers for their flight at eight o'clock.

Alba had a window seat and was grateful no one had claimed the seat next to her once the plane took off, giving her the okay to stretch out and relax as she fell back asleep for the return flight.

It was one of her favorite things, flying early in the morning. It was a guarantee that nearly everyone would be sleeping or quiet because of how early it was, just like flying late at night.

She was jerked awake almost two hours after taking off to the plane getting ready to land. She made sure her seatbelt was still fastened and the tray in front of her was still folded up before pulling open the window cover and looking down at the airport as it slowly grew bigger and bigger.

Almost fifteen minutes later she was standing up, pulling her backpack and laptop case down from the overhead compartment. She placed the laptop strap over her head and rested it on her shoulders as she searched her backpack for her purse, making sure everything was still there, before slugging that over her shoulders and exiting the plane as quickly as possible.

She followed the strangers off the plane, following the signs for the gate she had to reach to pick up her suitcase, and keeping her eye out for a tall brunette with shoulder length hair.

At first she didn't recognize him, it was almost like he was disguising himself, but once she saw the brooding stance and the hair pulled back into a messy half pony-tail, half down look, she knew it was him. He had a baseball hat hanging low over his face and a black jacket on, his hands shoved into his jeans pockets and wearing a dark blue t-shirt.

He wasn't moving his head, but his eyes were scanning over every face that walked down the gate, his body tense until he met eyes with Alba, and he relaxed just slightly.

She was beaming when she saw him, and didn't care that she was still tired or that her hair probably looked like a mess from the flight, she broke out into a run, not even realizing she had missed him _this much_, and surprised both of them when she jumped into his arms for a bone crushing hug.

Bucky stumbled back a step, completely thrown off by this, but was quick enough to hug her back, relieved that she seemed to miss him quite a bit. And, he wouldn't admit it out loud, but he had missed her just as much.

They stayed like that for a minute, completely engulfed in their first non-awkward, quick-to-return hug, before Alba pushed herself away and grinned at him.

Bucky looked her over for the first time, making sure everything was okay when he noticed a strand of hair that wasn't as long as he remembered.

"You cut your hair." He said, staring from her hair to her eyes.

Alba laughed, nodding her head, "I think you're the first guy in the history of the world that actually noticed immediately when a girl changed her hairstyle."

Bucky smirked, before taking his right hand and picking up the strand of hair, absently twirling it in his finger as he warmed up to the length. "I like it." He finally stated, looking back at her as he dropped the hair.

Alba felt her cheeks heat up just slightly, and she bit back her grin before pointing over her shoulder towards the baggage claim, "We should, we should probably go get my suitcase. I'm exhausted and ready for another nap." She announced, leaning Bucky towards the baggage claim.

After retrieving Alba's suitcase and stepping outside the airport towards the road, Bucky hailed a taxi for the two of them.

Alba scoffed as the yellow cab pulled up, "And you said you could drive."

Bucky rolled his eyes, "I can, I just didn't have anything _to_ drive." He said, before glancing over his shoulder at a black car sitting idly down the street.

Unbeknownst to Alba, Bucky had been given a ride to the airport by two S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, and had been watched while he waited in the airport. Bucky knew he was still on the agency's watch list, and he didn't want to give anything away to Alba by taking her home in a S.H.I.E.L.D. vehicle, driven by two of their agents. He knew anyway that they'd follow him in the taxi, which wasn't as big a deal as revealing the entire S.H.I.E.L.D. secret to Alba.

Bucky let the taxi driver load Alba's suitcase in the trunk while Alba placed her laptop in as well, opting to bring her backpack in the front with her.

"Back to your apartment?" Bucky asked as he stepped inside the cab through the left passenger door. Alba had stepped in through the right passenger door and nodded her head, "Please; I'm still exhausted from waking up so early."

Bucky smirked, nodding his head, "As you wish."


End file.
